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HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW'S 

EVANGELINE 

a Eale of ^catrte 



EDITED, 
WITH INTRODUCTION AND NOTES, 

BY 

MARY HARRIOTT NORRIS 

Professor of English Literature, New York City 

Editor of George Eliot's "Silas Marner'* and Sir Walter Scott's 

** Marmion " 

Author of "Dorothy Delafield," "The Nine Blessings," "John Apple- 
gate, Surgeon," " Lakewood : a Story qf ,Xf>rDAY^" etc 

^- ''^^ ■ '^ ^ 6 



ff- 



'y. 







LEACH, SHEWELL, & SANBORN, 

BOSTON. NEW YORK. CHICAGO. 






Copyright, 1896, 
By Leach, Shewell, & Sanborn. 



C. J. Peters & Son, Ttpographees. 



Berwick & Smith, Printers. 



PREFACE, 



Some knowledge of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow as 
scholar and poet is necessary to the equipment of any 
one desirous of possessing a general acquaintance with 
the development of English literature in the United 
States. 

The editor of Evangeline therefore has made a direct 
effort in her Notes and Introduction to keep this twofold 
need in mind. To facilitate her purpose she has deemed 
it her duty, rather than that of the pupil, to supply most 
of the knowledge obtainable from dictionaries and cyclo- 
paedias.' Moreover, it is no help to a student, eager for 
information, but destitute of library or works of refer- 
ence, or greatly limited in time, to be told to consult 
dictionary or cyclopaedia. If he has average intelligence, 
he knows as much as this himself. 

The editor occasionally has made a digression in her 
annotations on words like '^ emblazon '' or '' ambrosial,'' 
which, while really giving information extraneous to the 
subject-matter, nevertheless afford an opportunity better 
to judge of Longfellow's culture, and its importance as 
a factor in his final poetic expression. By tracing the 
source of many of the poet's allusions, she has tried to 
emphasize the value of varied reading as an element of 

ill 



IV PREFACE. 

literary power. It is her earnest hope that students 
will be inspired to devote the time she has attempted to 
save for them in a closer examination than they might 
otherwise have made of peculiarities of style and con- 
struction, and of the principles of poetics. 

The purity of thought and feeling embodied in Evan- 
geline are worthy of a month of study ; for in this narra- 
tive poem Longfellow has caught the true spirit of the 
gleeman, the minnesinger, the troiivh^e, — a spirit of 
graphic yet tender recital, mingled with deft reflection. 

MARY HAKRIOTT NORRIS. 
New York, April, 1896. 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE 
IXTPvODUCTION 1 

EvAXGELiiS'E : A Tale of Acadie 15 

Literary Estimates 113 

Notes 116 



INTRODUCTION. 



When we consider that since the invention of printing till 
early in the nineteenth century, about eleven million volumes 
have been issued, and that five thousand of these have been 
written on Goethe alone, we gain a fresh idea of the impor- 
tance of the few writers whose names and works become pre- 
eminent. Among the favored few stands Henry Wadsworth 
Longfellow. 

A writer in the January Forum of 1893 made the statement 
that at one time a literature of genius was produced in Amer- 
ica, although the greater portion appeared in Massachusetts. 
He named as men of genius, Whittier, Bryant, Hawthorne, 
Poe, Emerson, Irving, Prescott, Motley, Lowell, Holmes, and 
Longfellow, all of whom were born between 1780 and 1825. 
Since 1825, this writer further stated, no author has arisen in 
the United States who can be compared with these men. The 
reason given for this literary peculiarity was that by 1780 the 
people of Massachusetts especially, who were of English stock, 
had become homogeneous, and had then begun to develop a 
" literature of power " in poetry, romance, oratory, philosophy, 
history, and theology. 

Whatever may be our opinion of the justness of such a lim- 
itation of genius in letters in the United States, of one thing 
we are assured ; among these notable men, Henry Wadsworth 

Longfellow is the representative poet. It will be an interest- 

1 



2 INTRODUCTION. 

ing task to see whether he was in ancestry, in his moral, intel- 
lectual, and social development, and also in the form and 
content of his poetic expression, a typical American. 

The poet was of pure English stock, as his maternal ances- 
tors, the Wadsworths, as well as the Longfellows, came from 
Yorkshire. On his mother's side he was descended from 
" John Alden and Priscilla," while on his father's side his pro- 
genitors showed that evolution of an American family before 
our Civil War w^hich produced a '' gentleman " whom Piers 
the Ploughman could have accepted, and such a man of the 
world and of affairs as polite society everywhere welcomes. 

Longfellow the poet w^as the son of Stephen Longfellow, 
lawyer and statesman. The lawyer was the son of a farmer, 
who was also judge of the Court of Common Pleas. The far- 
mer was the son of a blacksmith. The blacksmith was the 
possible prototype of Basil in Evangeline ; he w^as also in the 
thought of the poet when writing : — 

** Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend. 
For the lesson thou hast taught ! 
Thus at the flaming forge of life 
Our fortunes must be Avrought; 
Thus on its sounding anvil shaped 
Each burning deed and thought ! " 

[See poem. The Village BlacTcsmith.] 

A praiseworthy effort is now being made to preserve the 
birthplaces or the sometime dwellings of famous Americans. 
But before this sensible thought had seized the national mind, 
the fine old home of Captain Samuel Stephenson, in Portland, 
Me., where Henry Wadsw^orth Longfellow was born, Feb. 27, 
1807, was converted into a tenement. Its dignified front, 
instead of commanding Casco Bay, as it did early in the cen- 
tury, now faces a mass of railway buildings. However, the 



INTRODUCTION, 3 

brick house where the poet's youth was passed still exists in 
the very centre of the business portion of Maine's chief town. 
This house was the property of Longfellow's maternal grand- 
father, General Peleg Wadsworth, who also owned an exten- 
sive tract of land known as the AYadsworth Grant. Between 
this estate and the farm of his paternal grandfather at Gorham, 
the future poet had a fine range of country life in his summer 
vacations. 

While sensitively organized, he grew to manhood well bal- 
anced in body, mind, and temperament. His instincts and 
habits were orderly, and his impulses upright. 

By means of his father's small but well-selected library, the 
Portland library, and the bookstore of a Mr. Johnson, the boy 
had a chance to feed his literary instincts, which had a rapid, 
but by no means precocious, development. 

His school-life began at three, and, including his professor- 
ships, ended at forty-seven. 

At six years of age he could read, spell, and multiply. At 
seven he had gone half through the Latin grammar. His first 
poem, The Battle of LovelVs Pond, was written when he was 
thirteen, and published in the Portland Gazette, It was an 
imitative ballad, and is of no importance except to show a 
certain youthful impressionability to rhyme and rhythm. 

At fourteen Longfellow passed the entrance examinations 
for Bowdoin, graduating from that college in 1825. Na- 
thaniel Hawthorne was one of several classmates who rose to 
distinction. During his college-life Longfellow dabbled in 
poetry ; but only five of the poems written at that time found 
a place in his first volume of original poetry, Voices of the 
Night, published in 1839. 

Bryant was his first master. The simplicity, dignity, and 
blank verse of Bryant no doubt helped clarify both the 



4 INTRODUCTION. 

thought and style of one who, all his life, was dominated 
by the Latin races in his persistent use of rhyme. 

At seventeen his literary ambitions were clearly defined, 
and his letters to his father at this time are interesting in 
affording a glimpse of his estimate of himself. His father's 
replies are characteristic of the early part of this century, the 
point of view of an American gentleman, and of the healthful 
relation existing between father and son. 

But circumstances as well as natural proclivity helped shape 
Longfellow's future course. He did not blaze his way to 
fame. In his case, as in that of Wordsworth, a series of 
events led to such a simple and natural evolution of the poet 
that his literary development seemed inevitable. He most 
earnestly desired, after graduation from Bowdoin, to spend 
a year at Cambridge ; and this wish, through the indulgent 
co-operation of his father, he was enabled to gratify. In 
these days of heavy college expenses, it is interesting to note 
that the cost of a year at Cambridge in 1825 was about S184. 

The poet's career as a man was destined, however, to a most 
auspicious beginning ; for the Board of Trustees of Bowdoin 
voted, at the Commencement in 1825, to establish a " Profes- 
sorship of the Modern Languages." The Board proposed that 
Henry W. Longfellow should visit Europe to further fit him- 
self in languages, and that on his return the chair should 
be his. 

Although Longfellow was versatile and talented, he realized, 
after his arrival in France, that long and varied post-graduate 
study was essential for a thorough professional equipment. 
An absence from home of three years, during which he had 
studied in France, Spain, Italy, and Germany, greatly broad- 
ened his views, deepened his perceptions, and admirably fitted 
him to inspire his pupils with true ideas of literary culture, 



INTRODUCTION. 5 

and to disabuse their minds of the notion that the acquisition 
of a language is the easy pastime of a few lessons, or that 
education, much less culture, is the possession of a mass of 
unassimilated and heterogeneous information. 

His arrival in America, in August, 1829, was followed the 
next month by his return to Bowdoin in the double capacity 
of professor and librarian, at a salary of one thousand dollars. 
He remained five and a haK years, teaching, editing text-books 
for his pupils, and lecturing. He also, in 1831, began to write 
for the North American Review, his first paper in that periodi- 
cal being entitled " The Origin and Progress of the French 
Language." His articles for the New England Magazine bore 
the appropriate title of " The Schoolmaster," and eventually 
were revised and incorporated in Outre-Mer\ his first prose 
work, which was published in 1835. His first book, however, 
was a small volume of ninety pages of translations from the 
Spanish, published in 1833. 

His nomination to the " Smith Professorship of Modern 
Languages " in Harvard University in 1834 led to a second 
preliminary journey abroad for purposes of study both in Ger- 
man and in the Scandinavian tongues. 

The summer of 1835 was spent in Stockholm, studying 
Swedish and Finnish. In September he was in Copenhagen, 
pursuing Icelandic and Danish. October found him in Hol- 
land, acquiring Dutch. In December he reached Heidelberg, 
where he began a thorough course of German literature. As 
in his translation of The Children of the Lord's Supper we 
have a memento of his life in Sweden, so in Hyperion, his 
second prose work, published in 1839, do we trace the course 
of his contact with German sentiment. 

Probably no American professor of languages in 1837 had 
so thorough an equipment as Longfellow. 



6 INTBOBUCTION, 

It is the knowledge of his protracted study of languages, his 
life-long association with the New England literati, his resi- 
dence at Cambridge, his lectures at Harvard and his public, 
lectures, his many translations, notably that of the Divine 
Comedy^ added to the general air of books, travel, culture, and 
great personal refinement investing him during the entire pe- 
riod of manhood, which makes it so difficult to distinguish how 
much of his success in life was due to culture, how much to 
talent, and whether his talent at times passed its boundary, 
and sought the rarer atmosphere of genius. 

Certainly, if one should attempt to place Longfellow's poetry 
under any one division, it w^ould be that of sentiment. He 
never became the exponent of absolute passion as did Shelley, 
Keats, and Mrs. Browning. He failed to reach, in Evangeline, 
those heights of feeling attained by Tennyson in Guinevere 
and Elaine. Again, he was under no pressure of time and 
place to exert himself outside the realm of translation, lyrics, 
and narratives ; for he was the dove sent out of the ark of his 
country's intelligence, and he returned bearing a twig of Old 
World culture and lore. By his American tact, instinct, and 
religiousness, he vivified the mass of European material he had 
assimilated with a warmth of national color and tone and thus 
rendered it acceptable, when a poet with the outfit of a Landor 
or a Swinburne would have been silenced by stern Puritan dis- 
approval. He was the conspicuous forerunner of American 
cosmopolitanism in letters. At the same time, there is much 
that Longfellow has written w^hich could not be fully appre- 
ciated outside of English-speaking peoples. Who, besides the 
English and Americans, could understand Elizabeth's spirit- 
ual sophistication in The Theologian's Tale f Her love is so 
quaintly, and withal naturally, expressed that we listen with 
the hero's devout and sympathetic ear to her confession. 



INTRODUCTION. 7 

In passing, it is interesting to compare the hexameter of TJie 
Theologian's Tale with that of Evangeline ; it is much more 
unevenly written, often degenerating into prose, as does also 
that of the otherwise beautiful version of Bishop Tegner's 
The Children of the Lord's Supper. 

The setting of The Birds of Killingworth, as well as of The 
Courtship of Miles Standish and of Hiawatha, is distinctly 
national. Notwithstanding these and kindred poems, Long- 
fellow has been called the least American of our poets. His 
versatility and responsiveness were great; but he was thor- 
oughly American, while at the same time as much a reflector 
of European poetry as Chaucer was of the Italian Renaissance 
poetry. He was by turns a Spaniard, an Italian, a German, 
and a Scandinavian in thought, a Frenchman in diction, but 
always an American in omnivorousness of acquisition and 
selection, and supremely what might be called an indigenous 
product of Puritanism in nineteenth century N'ew England 
transition. 

Heine's influence is seen in The Day is Done, Twilight, and 
The Bridge ; that of Uhland is observable in Nuremberg, 

The Psalm of Life has been dissected line by line to prove 
how extensively its author plagiarized. Coleridge was another 
famous borrower. Assimilation, doubtless, had been so perfect 
in the case of each of these poets that they were unable to dis- 
criminate between what was acquired or original. Perhaps 
Mr. M. W. Hazeltine's statement on this subject affords a suffi- 
cient answer to the charge. Mr. Hazeltine says, " The simple 
test of an author's right to borrow is this : < Is he able to 
lend?'" 

The Building of the Ship is an instance of Longfellow's poeti- 
cal acquisitiveness. One wonders, if he had not read Schiller, 
whether he could have written this fine poem, now reflective. 



8 INTRODUCTION, 

again descriptive, and replete with sentiment. The Wreck of 
the Hesperus recalls the stern coast of Gloucester, the life of 
that seaport, and also at once swings us back to England's 
fifteenth and sixteenth century ballads. The song of three 
stanzas, " Stay, stay at home, my heart, and rest,'' suggests in the 
metre, and some influence w^hich it breathes, Tennyson's The 
Princess. 

The three series of narrative poems called Tales of a Way- 
side Inn, the plan of which is undoubtedly based on The Can- 
terbury Tales, shows an affluence of learning not necessarily 
profound. The descriptions of the Sicilian, the musician and 
the violin, are musical and happy. The student's tale of The 
Falcon of Ser Federigo is, as the poet says, taken from the 
Decameron. While it has Boccaccio's touch of utter simplicity, 
elegance, and pathos, it is obviously imperfect in the sequence 
of the descriptive passages. 

The Legend of Rabbi Ben Levi, one of the tales of the Span- 
ish Jew, is sometimes instanced as a proof of Longfellow's 
claim to the loftiest rank among poets. The interlude fol- 
lowing The Legend of Rabbi Ben Levi is exquisite, and most 
gracefully introduces King Robert of Sicily. In King Robert 
of Sicily, the story runs consistently and directly to its close. 
But this artistic poem, while not more artistic than Tenny- 
son's The Holy Grail, cannot, however, compare with The 
Holy Grail in depth of spiritual suggestion. 

Of all the poems in Tales of a Wayside Inn, none can be 
more pleasing to native ears and sentiment, and none quite so 
indicative of Longfellow's skill, because the themes had not 
been wrought over and upon by poets for centuries, as the land- 
lord's tale. Paid Revere' s Ride, the poet's tale, The Birds of 
Killingworth, and also his second one, Lady Wentworth, and, 
finally, the theologian's tale, Elizabeth. 



INTR OD UCTION. 9 

As a sonneteer, Longfellow was very successful. In sonnets, 
his perception of the music in language, and his "gift of 
tongues," found adequate expression. As indicative of the 
ease with which his thought may be followed in this com- 
plex metrical handling, and because of a classic chasteness of 
description imbued with feeling and reflection. The Old Bridge 
at Florence and Three Friends of Mine are worthy of study, 
and may compare with some of Wordsw^orth's. AYhile not 
possessing the ruggedness or the sculpturesque e;ffect of those 
of Shakespeare, the Longfellow sonnets show the limpid clear- 
ness of their transalpine prototype. 

The poems on which the poet's reputation mainly rests are 
Evangeline and Hiawatha. 

To realize the beauty of its hexameter, Evangeline should 
be approached by reading, first, the translation, in hexameter, 
of Bishop Tegner's The Children of the Lord's Supper ; next, 
Elizabeth ; and, third, The Courtship of Miles Standish, 

Mr. M. W. Hazeltine complains that " the sluggish and 
ponderous effect produced by the use of the spondee in the 
fifth place is twenty times more frequent in Evangeline 
than in Ovid or Yirgil ; " but he also says, " Evangeline may 
well be ranked among the superlative exhibitions of pathetic 
power." 

England has an abstract expression, and a greater one, of 
Puritan religious feeling in Paradise Lost : America has a con- 
crete one, very sweet and human, although sincere and pro- 
found, not only in the moral attitude of Priscilla and Elizabeth, 
but in that also of the Catholic maiden, Evangeline. 

Hiawatha has been called "the great opportunity of Long- 
fellow's life." 

The metre is a Finnish one, and was employed in the 
ancient Sagas, or epic poems, of the Scandinavians. It was 



1 IN TROD UCTION, 

unknown to English verse, except in translations, when Hia- 
watha was wTitten. 

To enjoy this folk-song, one must have an imagination 
kindred to that of Hans Christian Andersen, or of La Motte 
Fouque. It should be read aloud, and with the abandon, if 
possible, of the improvisator. 

It is full of Indian legends, and not of bizarre tales invented 
by Longfellow, as some adverse critics have asserted. 

Hiawatha was the founder of Iroquois civilization, and 
revered as a god by those tribes. The poem is the story of 
his conquests over his enemies, the history of his friends, 
and also of other great Indian lights. It is an enchanting 
account of his courtship and marriage, of the troubles which 
overtook his people, the Ojibways, .of the loss of his wife, 
Minnehaha, of the destruction of the mischievous Paupuk- 
keewis, and of Hiawatha's own translation to the Land of the 
Hereafter. Various Indian myths also are introduced, and the 
reader is startled by the appearance in legends of the North 
American Indians of the stories of Buddha and Achilles and 
the doctrines of altruism and the resurrection. To the edi- 
tor's mind, Hiawatha is the most original contribution yet 
made in poetry to American literature. 

Although the Christus was a work upon which endless time, 
labor, thought, and love were expended, it lacks unity, while 
containing many passages of superlative beauty. 

The Spanish Gypsy seems like a crystallized, youthful prod- 
uct, and reminds the reader of the poet's almost juvenile 
handling of themes in Outre-Mer, It totally lacks dramatic 
power. 

Michael Angela, Longfellow's long, unfinished composition, 
is, in a certain coolness and severity of treatment, statuesque. 
It is as though the great architect and sculptor had cast the 



INTRODUCTION, 11 

glamour of his genius over the poem, which is seldom suffi- 
ciently pictorial. Michael Angelo and Yittoria Colonna are 
almost epic characters ; and this Longfellow seems fully to 
have realized in his patient and continued effort to ennoble 
his drama. Nearly all of his work is too suggestive of other 
poets; and Michael Angelo, as a highly original creation, is 
condemned, when subjected to this crucial test. The dra- 
matic form, together with the pose and conversation of the 
various characters, insinuates into the critic's thought Goethe's 
Torquato Tasso. There are passages so exquisitely beautiful 
on Petrarch, that English, under the American poet's plastic 
manipulation, breathes the melody and pathos combined which 
immortalized the Italian singer. Again, Dante's fire, imagery, 
and grandeur appear ; but they are reflected, one feels, by 
reason of Longfellow's universal sympathy. Presently and 
suddenly the reader finds the style changing, as the burning 
splendor of the setting sun lighting up a row of windows 
will die away, leaving behind nothing but a cold, glittering, 
and polished surface. There is, notwithstanding, in the 
Michael Angelo, an evenly sustained treatment which makes 
the drama superior to any comparison with that of The Spanish 
Gypsy, 

The poet's college lectures on Dante, and years of study 
of that poet, led to his successful translation of the Divine 
Comedy. The translation is an achievement in being nearly 
literal, and still very musical. This work of his ripe maturity 
is companioned by two of the finest things he ever wrote, 
Keramos and Morituri Salutamus — shining evidences of the 
intellectual vitality often peculiar to the man or woman of 
letters of advanced years. 

Longfellow was highly esteemed abroad. A Swedish pro- 
fessor devoted the lectures on literature for an entire year to 



12 INTRODUCTION. 

the poet and his writings. He has been translated into all 
European languages. 

He was the recipient of many literary honors. His own 
college made him LL.D. at twenty-one years of age. Harvard 
gave him the same degree at fifty-two. Cambridge honored 
him in this way when he was sixty-one years old, and Oxford 
made him D.C.L. when he was sixty-two. He was elected 
member of the Russian Academy of Science at sixty-six years 
of age, and of the Spanish Academy at seventy. 

His last prose work, Kavanagh, was written in 1849. The 
characters are refined and suggestive. The story is discursive 
and sketchy ; the style is fine. 

After the age of forty-seven, Longfellow's literary effort was 
altogether in poetry. It is to be observed that, with the ex- 
ception of Evangeline, which was published in 1847, most of 
his best poetry dates from the resignation of the Harvard 
professorship. Hiaivatha was published in 1855. The Court- 
ship of Miles Standish appeared in 1858; included in the vol- 
ume was the first series of Birds of Passage. In 1863 Tales 
of a Wayside Inn and the second series of Birds of Passage 
were published. The completed translation of Dante was 
given to the public in 1867. Christus : A Mystery appeared 
in final form in 1873 ; to this year also belong The Hanging of 
the Crane and the last narratives of Part Third of Tales of a 
Wayside Inn. Morituri Salutamus was written in 1874, and 
portions of " Flight the Fifth " of Birds of Passage in 1878. 

The poet was twice married. His first wife was Mary 
Storer Potter of Portland, Me. She died at Rotterdam, 
November, 1835. His second wife was Frances Elizabeth 
Appleton of Boston, Mass. She died in July, 1861. Through 
this second marriage Longfellow became owner of the cele- 
brated Craigie House, which Washington made his head- 



INTRODUCTION. 13 

quarters on assuming command of the American army in 
1876. Here the poet lived from 1837 till his death on March 
24, 1882. The even tenor of his life was varied by a third 
journey to Europe in 1842, and a fourth and last journey in 
1868. 

Mr. Thomas Davidson truly says that " Longfellow's exter- 
nal life presents little that is of striking interest. It is the 
life of a modest, deep-hearted gentleman, whose highest ambi- 
tion was to be a perfect man, and, through sympathy and love, 
to help others be the same. ... In Longfellow . . . the poet 
was the flower and fruit of the man. His nature was essen- 
tially poetic, and his life incomparably the greatest of his 
poems." 



EVANGELINE 



This is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines 
and the hemlocks, 

Bearded with moss, and in garments green, indistinct 
in the twilight, 

Stand like Druids of eld, with voices sad and prophetic, 

Stand like harpers hoar, with beards that rest on their 
bosoms. 

Loud from its rocky caverns, the deep-voiced neighbor- 
ing ocean 5 

Speaks, and in accents disconsolate answers the Avail 
of the forest. 

This is the forest primeval ; but where are the hearts 
that beneath it 

Leaped like the roe, when he hears in the woodland the 
voice of the huntsman ? 

Where is the thatched-roofed village, the home of Aca- 
dian farmers, — 

Men whose lives glided on like rivers that water the 
woodlands, 10 

Darkened by shadows of earth, but reflecting an image 
of heaven? 

15 



16 EVANGELINE: 

Waste are those pleasant farms, and the farmers for- 
ever departed ! 

Scattered like dust and leaves, when the mighty blasts 
of October 

Seize them, and whirl them aloft, and sprinkle them 
far o'er the ocean. 

Naught but tradition remains of the beautiful village of 
Grand-Pre. 15 

Ye who believe in affection that hopes, and endures, 

and is patient, 
Ye who believe in the beauty and strength of woman's 

devotion. 
List to the mournful tradition, still sung by the pines 

of the forest ; 
List to a Tale of Love in Acadie, home of the happy. 



A TALE OF ACADIE. 17 



PART THE FIEST. 
I. 

Ix the Acadian land^ on the shores of the Basin of 
Minas, 

Distant, secluded, still, the little village of Grand-Pre 

Lay in the fruitful valley. Vast meadows stretched 
to the eastward, 

Giving the village its name, and pasture to flocks with- 
out number. 

Dikes, that the hands of the farmers had raised with 
labor incessant, 5 

Shut out the turbulent tides ; but at stated seasons the 
flood-gates 

Opened, and welcomed the sea to wander at will o'er 
the meadows. 

West and south there were fields of flax, and orchards 
and cornfields 

Spreading afar and unfenced o'er the plain; and away 
to the northward 

Blomidon rose, and the forests old, and aloft on the 
mountains 10 

Sea-fogs pitched their tents, and mists from the mighty 
Atlantic 

Looked on the happy valley, but ne'er from their sta- 
tion descended. 



18 EVANGELINE: 

There, in the midst of its farms, reposed the Acadian 

village. 
Strongly built were the houses, with frames of oak and 

of hemlock, 
Such as the peasants of Normandy built in the reign 

of the Henries. 15 

Thatched were the roofs, with dormer-windows ; and 

gables projecting 
Over the basement below protected and shaded the 

doorway. 
There in the tranquil evenings of summer, when brightly 

the sunset 
Lighted the village street, and gilded the vanes on the 

chimneys, 
Matrons and maidens sat in snow-white caps and in 

kirtles 20 

Scarlet and blue and green, with distaffs spinning the 

golden 
Flax for the gossiping looms, whose noisy shuttles 

within doors 
Mingled their sounds with the whirl of the wheels and 

the songs of the maidens. 
Solemnly down the street came the parish priest, and 

the children 
Paused in their play to kiss the hand he extended to 

bless them. 25 

Eeverend walked he among them; and up rose matrons 

^nd maidens. 
Hailing his slow approach with words of affectionate 

welcome. 



A TALE OF AC ABIE, 19 

Then came the laborers home from the field, and se- 
renely the sun sank 
Down to his rest, and twilight prevailed. Anon from 

the belfry 
Softly the Angelus sounded, and over the roofs of the 

village 30 

Columns of pale blue smoke, like clouds of incense 

ascending, 
Eose from a hundred hearths, the homes of peace and 

contentment. 
Thus dwelt together in love these simple Acadian 

farmers, — 
Dwelt in the love of God and of man. Alike were 

they free from 
Fear, that reigns with the tyrant, and envy, the vice of 

republics. 35 

Neither locks had they to their doors, nor bars to their 

windows ; 
But their dwellings were open as day and the hearts 

of the owners ; 
There the richest was poor, and the poorest lived in 

abundance. 

Somewhat apart from the village, and nearer the 

Basin of Minas, 
Benedict Bellefontaine, the wealthiest farmer of Grand- 

Pre, 40 

Dwelt on his goodly acres ; and with him, directing his 

household, 



20 EVANGELINE: 

Gentle Evangeline lived, his child, and the pride of the 

village. 
Stalworth and stately in form was the man of seventy 

winters ; 
Hearty and hale was he, an oak that is covered with 

snow-flakes ; 
White as the snow were his locks, and his cheeks as 

brown as the oak-leaves. 45 

Fair was she to behold, that maiden of seventeen 

summers. 
Black were her eyes as the berry that grows on the 

thorn by the wayside. 
Black, yet how softly they gleamed beneath the brown 

shades of her tresses ! 
Sweet was her breath as the breath of kine that feed 

in the meadows. 
When in the harvest heat she bore to the reapers at 

noontide 50 

Flagons of home-brewed ale, ah ! fair in sooth was the 

maiden. 
Fairer was she when, on Sunday morn, while the bell 

from its turret 
Sprinkled with holy sounds the air, as the priest with 

his hyssop 
Sprinkles the congregation, and scatters blessings upon 

them, 
Down the long street she passed, with her chaplet of 

beads and her missal, 55 

Wearing her Norman cap, and her kirtle of blue, and 

the ear-rings. 



A TALE OF ACADIE. 21 

Brought in the olden time from France, and since, as 
an heirloom, 

Handed down from mother to child, through long gen- 
erations. 

But a celestial brightness — a more ethereal beauty — 

Shone on her face and encircled her form, when, after 
confession, 60 

Homeward serenely she walked with God^s benediction 
upon her. 

When she had passed, it seemed like the ceasing of 
exquisite music. 

Firmly builded with rafters of oak, the house of the 

farmer 
Stood on the side of a hill commanding the sea ; and a 

shady 
Sycamore grew by the door, with a woodbine wreathing 

around it. 65 

Rudely carved was the porch, with seats beneath ; and 

a footpath 
Led through an orchard wide, and disappeared in the 

meadow. 
Under the sycamore-tree were hives overhung by a 

penthouse. 
Such as the traveller sees in regions remote by the road- 
side, 
Built o'er a box for the poor, or the blessed image of 

Mary. 70 

Farther down, on the slope of the hill, was the well 

with its moss-grown 



22 EVANGELINE : 

Bucket, fastened with iron, and near it a trough for the 
horses. 

Shielding the house from storms, on the north, were 
the barns and the farm-yard. 

There stood the broad-wheeled w^ains and the antique 
ploughs and the harrows ; 

There were the folds for the sheep; and there, in his 
feathered seraglio, 75 

Strutted the lordly turkey, and crowed the cock, with 
the selfsame 

Voice that in ages of old had startled the penitent 
Peter. 

Bursting with hay were the barns, themselves a village. 
In each one 

Far o'er the gable projected a roof of thatch; and a 
staircase. 

Under the sheltering eaves, led up to the odorous corn- 
loft. 80 

There too the dove-cot stood, with its meek and inno- 
cent inmates 

Murmuring ever of love ; while above in the variant 
breezes 

Numberless noisy weathercocks rattled and sang of 
mutation. 

Thus, at peace with God and the world, the farmer 
of Grand-Pre 
Lived on his sunny farm, and Evangeline governed his 
household. 85 



A TALE OF ACABIE. 23 

Many a youth, as lie knelt in church and opened his 

missal, 
Fixed his eyes upon her as the saint of his deepest 

devotion ; 
Happy was he who might touch her hand or the hem 

of her garment ! 
Many a suitor came to her door, by the darkness be- 
friended, 
And, as he knocked and waited to hear the sound of 

her footsteps, 90 

Knew not which beat the louder, his heart or the 

knocker of iron; 
Or at the joyous feast of the Patron Saint of the 

village, 
Bolder grew, and pressed her hand in the dance as he 

whispered 
Hurried words ■ of love, that seemed a part of the 

music. 
But, among all who came, young Gabriel only was 

welcome ; 95 

Gabriel Lajeunesse, the son of Basil the blacksmith. 
Who was a mighty man in the village, and honored 

of all men ; 
For, since the birth of time, throughout all ages and 

nations. 
Has the craft of the smith been held in repute by the 

people. 
Basil was Benedict's friend. Their children from 

earliest childhood 100 



24 EVANGELINE: 

Grew up together as brother and sister; and Father 

Felician, 
Priest and pedagogue both in the village, had taught 

them their letters 
Out of the selfsame book, with the hymns of the church 

and the plain-song. 
But when the hymn was sung, and the daily lesson 

completed, 
Swiftly they hurried away to the forge of Basil the 

blacksmith. 105 

There at the door they stood, with wondering eyes to 

behold him 
Take in his leathern lap the hoof of the horse as a 

plaything, 
Nailing the shoe in its place; while near him the tire 

of the cart-wheel 
Lay like a fiery snake, coiled round in a circle of 

cinders. 
Oft on autumnal eves, when without in the gathering 

darkness 110 

Bursting with light seemed the smithy^ through every 

cranny and crevice, 
Warm by the forge within they watched the laboring 

bellows. 
And as its panting ceased, and the sparks expired in 

the ashes. 
Merrily laughed, and said they were nuns going into 

the chapel. 
Oft on sledges in winter, as swift as the swoop of the 

eagle, 115 



A TALE OF ACADIK 25 

Down the hillside bounding, they glided away o'er the 

meadow. 
Oft in the barns they climbed to the populous nests 

on the rafters, 
Seeking with eager eyes that wondrous stone, which the 

swallow 
Brings from the shore of the sea to restore the sight 

of its fledglings ; 
Lucky was he who found that stone in the nest of 

the swallow ! 120 

Thus passed a few swift years, and they no longer were 

children. 
He was a valiant youth, and his face, like the face 

of the morning. 
Gladdened the earth with its light, and ripened thought 

into action. 
She was a woman now, with the heart and hopes of a 

woman. 
" Sunshine of Saint Eulalie '' was she called ; for that 

was the sunshine 125 

Which, as the farmers believed, would load their or- 
chards with apples ; 
She, too, would bring to her husband's house delight 

and abundance. 
Filling it with love and the ruddy faces of children. 



26 EVANGELINE: 

II. 

Now had the season returned, when the nights grow 
colder and longer 

And the retreating sun the sign of the Scorpion en- 
ters. 130 

Birds of passage sailed through the leaden air, from the 
ice-bound, 

Desolate northern bays to the shores of tropical islands. 

Harvests were gathered in ; and wild with the winds of 
September 

Wrestled the trees of the forest, as Jacob of old with 
the angel. 

All the signs foretold a winter long and inclement. 135 

Bees, with prophetic instinct of want, had hoarded their 
honey 

Till the hives overflowed; and the Indian hunters as- 
serted 

Cold would the winter be, for thick was the fur of the 
foxes. 

Such was the advent of autumn. Then followed that 
beautiful season. 

Called by the pious Acadian peasants the Summer of 
All-Saints ! i4o 

Filled was the air with a dreamy and magical light ; 
and the landscape 

Lay as if new-created in all the freshness of childhood. 

Peace seemed to reign upon earth, and the restless heart 
of the ocean 



A TALE OF ACADIE. 27 

Was for a moment consoled. All sounds were in har- 
mony blended. 
Voices of children at play, the crowing of cocks in the 

farm-yards, i^^ 

Whir of wings in the drowsy air^ and the cooing of 

pigeons, 
All were subdued and low as the murmurs of love, and 

the great sun 
Looked with the eye of love through the golden vapors 

around him ; 
While arrayed in its robes of russet and scarlet and 

yellow, 
Bright with the sheen of the dew, each glittering tree 

of the forest 150 

Flashed like the plane-tree the Persian adorned with 

mantles and jewels. 

;N'ow recommenced the reign of rest and affection 
and stillness. 

Day with its burden and heat had departed, and twi- 
light descending 

Brought back the evening star to the sky, and the herds 
to the homestead. 

Pawing the ground they came, and resting their necks 
on each other, 155 

And with their nostrils distended inhaling the freshness 
of evening. 

Foremost, bearing the bell, Evangeline's beautiful 
heifer, 



28 EVANGELINE: 

Proud of her snow-white hide, and the ribbon that 
waved from her collar, 

Quietly paced and slow, as if conscious of human 
affection. 

Then came the shepherd back with his bleating flocks 
from the seaside, leo 

Where was their favorite pasture. Behind them fol- 
lowed the watch-dog, . 

Patient, full of importance, and grand in the pride of 
his instinct. 

Walking from side to side with a lordly air, and 
superbly 

Waving his bushy tail, and urging forward the strag- 
glers ; 

Eegent of flocks was he when the shepherd slept ; their 
protector, 165 

When from the forest at night, through the starry 
silence the wolves howled. 

Late, with the rising moon, returned the wains from 
the marshes, 

Laden with briny hay, that filled the air with its odor. 

Cheerily neighed the steeds, with dew on their manes 
and their fetlocks. 

While aloft on their shoulders the wooden and pon- 
derous saddles, i70 

Painted with brilliant dyes, and adorned with tassels 
of crimson, 

Nodded in bright array, like hollyhocks heavy with 
blossoms. 



A TALE OF ACADIE. 29 

Patiently stood the cows meanwhile, and yielded their 
udders 

Unto the milkmaid^s hand; whilst loud and in regular 
cadence 

Into the sounding pails the foaming streamlets de- 
scended. 175 

Lowing of cattle and peals of laughter were heard in 
the farm-yard, 

Echoed back by the barns. Anon they sank into still- 
ness; 

Heavily closed, with a jarring sound, the valves of the 
barn-doors, 

Eattled the wooden bars, and all for a season was 
silent. 

In-doors, warm by the wide-mouthed fireplace, idly 

the farmer iso 

Sat in his elbow-chair and watched how the flames 

and the smoke-wreaths 
Struggled together like foes in a burning city. Behind 

him, 
Nodding and mocking along the wall, with gestures 

fantastic. 
Darted his own huge shadow, and vanished away into 

darkness. 
Faces, clumsily carved in oak, on the back of his 

arm-chair i85 

Laughed in the flickering light ; and the pewter plates 

on the dresser 



30 EVANGELINE: 

Caught and reflected the flame, as shields of armies 

the sunshine. 
Fragments of song the old man sang, and carols of 

Christmas, 
Such as at home, in the olden time, his fathers before 

him 
Sang in their Norman orchards and bright Burgun- 

dian vineyards. 190 

Close at her father's side was the gentle Evangeline 

seated. 
Spinning flax for the loom, that stood in the corner 

behind her. 
Silent awhile were its treadles, at rest was its diligent 

shuttle. 
While the monotonous drone of the wheel, like the 

drone of a bagpipe. 
Followed the old man's song and united the fragments 

together. 195 

As in a church, when the chant of the choir at intervals 

ceases. 
Footfalls are heard in the aisles, or words of the priest 

at the altar,- 
So, in each pause of the song, with measured motion the 

clock clicked. 

Thus as they sat, there were footsteps heard, and, 
suddenly lifted, 
Sounded the wooden latch, and the door swung back 
on its hinges. 200 



A TALE OF ACAJDIE. 31 

Benedict knew by the hob-nailed shoes it was Basil the 

blacksmith, 
And by her beating heart Evangeline knew who was 

with him. 
" Welcome ! " the farmer exclaimed, as their footsteps 

paused on the threshold, 
" Welcome, Basil, my friend ! Come, take thy place 

on the settle 
Close by the chimney-side, which is always empty with- 
out thee ; 205 
Take from the shelf overhead thy pipe and the box of 

tobacco ; 
Never so much thyself art thou as when through the 

curling 
Smoke of the pipe or the forge thy friendly and jovial 

face gleams 
Round and red as the harvest moon through the mist 

of the marshes.^ ^ 
Then, with a smile of content, thus answered Basil the 

blacksmith, 210 

Taking with easy air the accustomed seat by the fire- 
side : — 
" Benedict Belief ontaine, thou hast ever thy jest and 

thy ballad ! 
Ever in cheerfullest mood art thou, when others are 

filled with 
Gloomy forebodings of ill, and see only ruin before 

them. 
Happy art thou, as if every day thou hadst picked up 

a horseshoe.^^ 215 



32 EVANGELINE: 

Pausing a moment, to take the pipe that Evangeline 

brought him, 
And with a coal from the embers had lighted, he slowly 

continued : — 
^^Four days now are passed since the English ships 

at their anchors 
Eide in the Gaspereau's mouth, with their cannon 

pointed against us. 
What their design may be is unknown ; but all are 

commanded 220 

On the morrow to meet in the church, where his Maj- 
esty's mandate 
Will be proclaimed as law in the land. Alas ! in the 

meantime 
Many surmises of evil alarm the hearts of the peo- 

ple.^' 
Then made answer the farmer : " Perhaps some friend- 
lier purpose 
Brings these ships to our shores. Perhaps the harvests 

in England 225 

By untimely rains or untimelier heat have been blighted, 
And from our bursting barns they would feed their 

cattle and children.'' 
^^N"ot so thinketh the folk in the village," said 

warmly, the blacksmith. 
Shaking his head, as in doubt ; then, heaving a sigh, 

he continued : — 
"Louisburg is not forgotten, nor Beau Sejour, nor 

Port Eoyal. 230 



A TALE OF AC ABIE. 33 

Many already have fled to the forest, and lurk on its 

outskirts, 
Waiting with anxious hearts the dubious fate of to- 
morrow. 
Arms have been taken from us, and warlike weapons 

of all kinds; 
Nothing is left but the blacksmith's sledge and the 

sc}^he of the mower.'' 
Then with a pleasant smile made answer the jovial 

farmer : — 235 

^^ Safer are we unarmed, in the midst of our flocks 

and our cornfields. 
Safer within these peaceful dikes, besieged by the 

ocean, 
Than our fathers in forts, besieged by the enemy's 

cannon. 
Fear no evil, my friend, and to-night may no shadow 

of sorrow 
Fall on this house and hearth; for this is the night 

of the contract. 240 

Built are the house and the barn. The merry lads 

of the village 
Strongly have built them and well ; and, breaking 

the glebe round about them, 
Filled the barn with hay, and the house with food 

for a twelvemonth. 
Rene Leblanc will be hpre anon, with his papers and 

inkhorn. 
Shall we not then be glad, and rejoice in the joy of 

our children?" 245 



34 EVANGELINE : 

As apart by the window she stood, with her hand in 

her lover's, 
Blushing Evangeline heard the words that her father 

had spoken, 
And as they died on his lips, the worthy notary 

entered. 

III. 

Bent like a laboring oar, that toils in the surf of 
the ocean. 

Bent, but not broken, by age was the form of the 
notary public; 250 

Shocks of yellow hair, like the silken floss of the maize, 
hung 

Over his shoulders ; his forehead was high ; and glasses 
with horn bows 

Sat astride on his nose, with a look of wisdom su- 
pernal. 

Father of twenty children was he, and more than a 
hundred 

Children's children rode on his knee, and heard his 
great watch tick. 255 

Four long years in the times of the war had he lan- 
guished a captive. 

Suffering much in an old French fort as the friend 
of the English. 

Now, though warier grown, without all guile or sus- 
picion, 

Eipe in wisdom was he, but patient, and simple, and 
childlike. 



A TALE OF AC ABIE. ^ 35 

He was beloved by all, and most of all by the chil- 
dren ; 260 

For he told them tales of the Loup-garou in the forest, 

And of the goblin that came in the night to water the 
horses, 

And of the white Letiche, the ghost of a child who 
unchristened 

Died, and was doomed to haunt unseen the chambers 
of children; 

And how on Christmas eve the oxen talked in the 
stable, 265 

And how the fever was cured by a spider shut up in 
a nutshell. 

And of the marvellous powers of four-leaved clover 
and horseshoes. 

With whatsoever else was writ in the lore of the vil- 
lage. 

Then up rose from his seat by the fireside Basil the 
blacksmith, 

Knocked from his pipe the ashes, and slowly extending 
his right hand, 270 

^^ Father Leblanc,^^ he exclaimed, ^Hhou hast heard 
the talk in the village. 

And, perchance, canst tell us some news of these ships 
and their errand.'^ 

Then with modest demeanor made answer the notary 
public, — 
'' Gossip enough have I heard, in sooth, yet am never 
the wiser ; 



36 EVANGELINE: 

Yet am 1 not of those who imagine some evil intention 
Brings them here, for we are at peace; and why then 

molest us ? '^ 
" God^s name ! '^ shouted the hasty and somewhat 

irascible blacksmith ; 
"Must we in all things look for the how, and the 

why, and the wherefore ? 
Daily injustice is done, and might is the right of the 

strongest ! " 
But without heeding his warmth, continued the notary 

public, 280 

" Man is unjust, but God is just ; and finally justice 
Triumphs ; and well I remember a stor}^, that often 

consoled me. 
When as a captive I lay in the old French fort at Port 

Eoyal/' 
This was the old man's favorite tale, and he loved to 

repeat it 
When his neighbors complained that any injustice was 

done them. 285 

"Once in an ancient city, whose name I no longer 

remember. 
Raised aloft on a column, a brazen statue of Justice 
Stood in the public square, upholding the scales in its 

left hand, 
And in its right a sword, as an emblem that justice 

presided 
Over the laws of the land, and the hearts and homes 

of the people. 290 



A TALE OF ACADIE. 37 

Even the birds had built their nests in the scales of 
the balance, 

Having no fear of the sword that flashed in the sun-' 
shine above them. 

But in the course of time the laws of the land were 
corrupted ; 

Might took the place of right; and the weak were 
oppressed, and the mighty 

Euled with an iron rod. Then it chanced in a noble- 
man's palace 295 

That a necklace of pearls was lost, and erelong a 
suspicion 

Fell on an orphan girl who lived as a maid in the 
household. 

She, after form of trial condemned to die on the scaf- 
fold. 

Patiently met her doom at the foot of the statue of 
Justice. 

As to her Father in heaven her innocent spirit as- 
cended, 300 

Lo ! o'er the city a tempest rose ; and the bolts of the 
thunder 

Smote the statue of bronze, and hurled in wrath from 
its left hand 

Down on the pavement below the clattering scales of 
the balance, 

And in the hollow thereof was found the nest of a 
magpie, 

Into whose clay-built walls the necklace of pearls was 
inwoven.^' 305 



38 EVANGELINE: 

Silenced, but not convinced, when the story was ended, 

the blacksmith 
Stood like a man who fain would speak, but findeth no 

language ; 
All his thoughts were congealed into lines on his face, 

as the vapors 
Freeze in fantastic shapes on the window-frames in 

the winter. 

Then Evangeline lighted the brazen lamp on the 
table, 310 

Filled, till it overflowed, the pewter tankard with home- 
brewed 

Nut-brown ale, that was famed for its strength in the 
village of Grand-Pre ; 

While from his pocket the notary drew his papers and 
inkhorn, 

AVrote with a steady hand the date and the age of the 
parties, 

Naming the dower of the bride in flocks of sheep and 
in cattle. 315 

Orderly all things proceeded, and duly and well were 
completed. 

And the great seal of the law was set like a sun on the 
margin. 

Then from his leathern pouch the farmer threw on the 
table 

Three times the old man's fee in solid pieces of sil- 
ver: 



A TALE OF ACADIE. 39 

And the notary rising, and blessing the bride and the 

bridegroom, 320 

Lifted aloft the tankard of ale and drank to their 

welfare. 
Wiping the foam from his lip, he solemnly bowed and 

departed, 
While in silence the others sat and mused by the fire- 
side. 
Till Evangeline brought the draught-board out of its 

corner. 
Soon was the game begun. In friendly contention the 

old men 325 

Laughed at each lucky hit, or unsuccessful manoeuvre. 
Laughed when a man was crowned, or a breach was 

made in the king-row. 
Meanwhile apart, in the twilight gloom of a window's 

embrasure, 
Sat the lovers, and whispered together, beholding the 

moon rise 
Over the pallid sea, and the silvery mists of the 

meadows. 330 

Silently one by one, in the infinite meadows of heaven. 
Blossomed the lovely stars, the forget-me-nots of the 

angels. 

Thus was the evening passed. Anon the bell from 
the belfry 
Rang out the hour of nine, the village curfew, and 
straightway 



40 EVANGELINE : 

Eose the guests and departed ; and silence reigned in 
the household. 335 

Many a farewell word and sweet good-night on the door- 
step 

Lingered long in Evangeline's heart, and filled it with 
gladness. 

Carefully then were covered the embers that glowed on 
the hearth-stone, 

And on the oaken stairs resounded the tread of the 
farmer. 

Soon with a soundless step the foot of Evangeline 
followed. 340 

Up the staircase moved a luminous space in the darkness, 

Lighted less by the lamp than the shining face of the 
maiden. 

Silent she passed the hall, and entered the door of 
her chamber. 

Simple that chamber was, with its curtains of white, 
and its clothes-press 

Ample and high, on whose spacious shelves were care- 
fully folded 345 

Linen and woollen stuffs, by the hand of Evangeline 
woven. 

This was the precious dower she would bring to her 
husband in marriage. 

Better than flocks and herds, being proofs of her skill 
as a housewife. 

Soon she extinguished her lamp, for the mellow and 
radiant moonlight 



A TALE OF ACADIE. 41 

Streamed througli the Avindows, and lighted the room, 

till the heart of the maiden 350 

Swelled and obeyed its power, like the tremulous tides 

of the ocean. 
Ah! she was fair, exceeding fair to behold, as she 

stood with 
Naked snow-white feet on the gleaming floor of her 

chamber ! 
Little she dreamed that below, among the trees of the 

orchard. 
Waited her lover and watched for the gleam of her 

lamp and her shadow. 355 

Yet were her thoughts of him, and at times a feeling 

of sadness 
Passed o'er her soul, as the sailing shade of clouds in 

the moonlight 
Flitted across the floor and darkened the room for a 

moment. 
And, as she gazed from the window, she saw serenely 

the moon pass 
Forth from the folds of a cloud, and one star follow 

her footsteps, 360 

As out of Abraham's tent young Ishmael wandered with 

Hagar ! 

IV. 

Pleasantly rose next morn the sun on the village of 

Grand-Pre. 
Pleasantly gleamed in the soft, sweet air the Basin of 

Minas, 



42 EVANGELINE: 

Where the ships, with their wavering shadows, were 

riding at anchor. 
Life had long been astir in the village, and clamorous 

labor 365 

Knocked with its hundred hands at the golden gates 

of the morning. 
Now from the country around, from the farms and 

neighboring hamlets. 
Came in their holiday dresses the blithe Acadian 

peasants. 
Many a glad good-morrow and jocund laugh from the 

young folk 
Made the bright air brighter, as up from the numerous 

meadows, 370 

Where no path could be seen but the track of wheels 

in the greensward, 
Group after group appeared, and joined, or passed on 

the highway. 
Long ere noon, in the village all sounds of labor were 

silenced. 
Thronged were the streets with people; and noisy 

groups 'at the house-doors 
Sat in the cheerful sun, and rejoiced and gossiped 

together. 375 

Every house was an inn, where all were welcomed and 

feasted ; 
For with this simple people, who lived like brothers 

together. 
All things were held in common, and wjiat one h^d was 

another's. 



A TALE OF ACADIE, 43 

Yet under Benedict's roof hospitality seemed more 

abundant : 
For Evangeline stood among the guests of her father ; 
Bright was her face with smiles, and words of welcome 

and gladness 
Fell from her beautiful lips, and blessed the cup as she 

gave it. 

Under the open sky, in the odorous air of the 

orchard, 
Stript of its golden fruit, was spread the feast of 

betrothal. 
There in the shade of the porch were the priest and 

the notary seated ; 385 

There good Benedict sat, and sturdy Basil the black- 
smith. 
N"ot far withdrawn from these, by the cider-press and 

the beehives, 
Michael the fiddler was placed, with the gayest of 

hearts and of waistcoats. 
Shadow and light from the leaves alternately played 

on his snow-white 
Hair, as it waved in the wind; and the jolly face of 

the fiddler 390 

Glowed like a living coal when the ashes are blown 

from the embers. 
Gayly the old man sang to the vibrant sound of his fiddle, 
Tous les Bourgeois de Chartres^ and Le Carillon de 

Dunqicerquej 



44 EVANGELINE: 

And anon with his wooden shoes beat time to the 

music. 
Merrily, merrily whirled the wheels of the dizzying 

dances 395 

Under the orchard trees and down the path to the 

meadows ; 
Old folk and young together, and children mingled 

among them. 
Fairest of all the maids was Evangeline, Benedict's 

daughter ! 
Noblest of all the youths was Gabriel, son of the 

blacksmith ! 

So passed the morning away. And lo ! with a 

summons sonorous 40o 

Sounded the bell from its tower, and over the meadows 

a drum beat. 
Thronged erelong was the church with men. Without, 

in the churchyard, 
Waited the women. They stood by the graves, and 

hung on the headstones 
Garlands of autumn-leaves and evergreens fresh from 

the forest. 
Then came the guard from the ships, and marching 

proudly among them 405 

Entered the sacred portal. With loud and dissonant 

clangor 
Echoed the sound of their brazen drums from ceiling 

and casement, — 



A TALE OF AC ABIE. 45 

Echoed a moment only, and slowly the ponderous 

portal 
Closed, and in silence the crowd awaited the will of 

the soldiers. 
Then uprose their commander, and spake from the 

steps of the altar, 410 

Holding aloft in his hands, with its seals, the royal 

commission. 
^^You are convened this day," he said, ^^by his 

Majesty's orders. 
Clement and kind has he been ; but how you have 

answered his kindness. 
Let your own hearts reply! To my natural make 

and my temper 
Painful the task is I do, which to you I know must 

be grievous. 415 

Yet must I bow and obey, and deliver the will of 

our monarch; 
Namely, that all your lands, and dwellings, and cattle 

of all kinds 
Forfeited be to the crown; and that you yourselves 

from this province 
Be transported to other lands. God grant you may 

dwell there 
Ever as faithful subjects, a happy and peaceable people ! 
Prisoners now I declare you; for such is his Maj- 
esty's pleasure ! '' 
As, when the air is serene in sultry solstice of sum- 
mer. 



46 EVA NGELINE : 

Suddenly gathers a storm, and the deadly sling of the 

hailstones 
Beats down the farmer's corn in the field and shatters 

his windows, 
Hiding the sun, and strewing the ground with thatch 

from the house-roofs, 425 

Bellowing fly the herds, and seek to break their en- 
closures ; 
So on the hearts of the people descended the words 

of the speaker. 
Silent a moment they stood in speechless wonder, and 

then rose 
Louder and ever louder a wail of sorrow and anger. 
And, by one impulse moved, they madly rushed to 

the door-way. 430 

Vain was the hope of escape ; and cries and fierce 

imprecations 
Eang through the house of prayer ; and high o'er the 

heads of the others 
Eose, with his arms uplifted, the figure of Basil the 

blacksmith. 
As, on a stormy sea, a spar is tossed by the bil- 
lows. 
Flushed was his face and distorted with passion ; and 

wildly he shouted, — 435 

^^ Down with the tyrants of England ! We never 

have sworn them allegiance ! 
Death to these foreign soldiers, who seize on our 

homes and our harvests ! " 



A TALE OF ACADIE. 47 

More he fain would have said, but the merciless hand 

of a soldier 
Smote him upon the mouth, and dragged him down 

to the pavement. 

In the midst of the strife and tumult of angry 

contention, 44o 

Lo ! the door of the chancel opened, and Pather 

Felician 
Entered with serious mien, and ascended the steps of 

the altar. 
Raising his reverend hand, with a gesture he awed 

into silence 
All that clamorous throng ; and thus he spake to his 

people ; 
Deep were his tones and solemn ; in accents measured 

and mournful 445 

Spake he, as, after the tocsin's alarum, distinctly the 

clock strikes. 
" What is this that ye do, my children ? What 

m^adness has seized you ? 
Forty years of my life have I labored among you, 

and taught you, 
Not in word alone, but in deed, to love one an- 
other ! 
Is this the fruit of my toils, of my vigils and prayers 

and privations ? 450 

Have you so soon forgotten all lessons of love and 

forgiveness ? 



48 EVANGELINE: 

This is the house of the Prince of Peace, and would 

you profane it 
Thus with violent deeds and hearts overflowing with 

hatred ? 
Lo ! where the crucified Christ from his cross is gazing 

upon you ! 
See ! in those sorrowful eyes what meekness and holy 

compassion ! 455 

Hark ! how those lips still repeat the prayer, ^ 

Father, forgive them!' 
Let us repeat that prayer in the hour when the wicked 

•assail us, 
Let us repeat it now, and say, ' Pather, forgive 

them ! ' '' 
Pew were his words of rebuke, but deep in the hearts 

of his people 
Sank they, and sobs of contrition succeeded the passion- 
ate outbreak, 4go 
While they repeated his prayer, and said, '^ Pather, 

forgive them ! '^ 

Then came the evening service. The tapers gleamed 

from the altar. 
Pervent and deep was the voice of the priest, and the 

people responded. 
Not with their lips alone, but their hearts ; and the 

Ave Maria 
Sang they, and fell on their knees, and their souls, 

with devotion translated, 4Go 



A TALE OF ACAD IE. 49 

Eose on the ardor of prayer, like Elijah ascending to 
heaven. 

Meanwhile had spread in the village the tidings of 

ill, and on all sides 
Wandered, wailing, from house to house the women 

and children. 
Long at her father's door Evangeline stood, with her 

right hand 
Shielding her eyes from the level rays of the sun that, 

descending, 470 

Lighted the village street with mysterious splendor, 

and roofed each 
Peasant's cottage with golden thatch, and emblazoned 

its windows. 
Long within had been spread the snow-white cloth on 

the table; 
There stood the wheaten loaf, and the honey fragrant 

with wild-flowers ; 
There stood the tankard of ale, and the cheese fresh 

from the dairy, 475 

And, at the head of the board, the great arm-chair of 

the farmer. 
Thus did Evangeline wait at her father's door, as the 

sunset 
Threw the long shadows of trees o'er the broad am- 
brosial meadows. 
Ah ! on her spirit within a deeper shadow had fallen. 
And from the fields of her soul a fragrance celestial 

ascended, — 48o 



50 EVANGELINE: 

Charity, meekness, love, and hope, and forgiveness, and 
patience ! 

Then, all-forgetful of self, she wandered into the 
village. 

Cheering with looks and words the mournful hearts of 
women, 

As o'er the darkening fields with lingering steps they 
departed. 

Urged by their household cares, and the weary feet 
of their children. 485 

Down sank the great red sun, and in golden, glimmer- 
ing vapors 

Veiled the light of his face, like the Prophet descend- 
ing from Sinai. 

Sweetly over the village the bell of the Angelus 
sounded. 

Meanwhile, amid the gloom, by the church Evan- 
geline lingered. 

All was silent within; and in vain at the door and 
the windows ^ 490 

Stood she, and listened and looked, till, overcome by 
emotion, 
^^ Gabriel ! '' cried she aloud with tremulous voice ; 
but no answer 

Came from the graves of the dead, nor the gloomier 
grave of the living. 

Slowly at length she returned to the tenantless house 
of her father. 



A TALE OF AC ABIE. 61 

Smouldered the fire on the hearth, on the board was 

the supper untasted, 495 

Empty and drear was each room, and haunted with 

phantoms of terror. 
Sadly echoed her step on the stair and the floor of 

her chamber. 
In the dead of the night she heard the disconsolate 

rain fall 
Loud on the withered leaves of the sycamore-tree by 

the window. 
Keenly the lightning flashed; and the voice of the 

echoing thunder 500 

Told her that God was in heaven, and governed the 

world he created ! 
Then she remembered the tale she had heard of the 

justice of Heaven; 
Soothed was her troubled soul, and she peacefully 

slumbered till morning. 



V. 

Four times the sun had risen and set ; and now on 

the fifth day 
Cheerily called the cock to the sleeping maids of the 

farm-house. 505 

Soon o'er the yellow fields, in silent and mournful 

procession. 
Came from the neighboring hamlets and farms the 

Acadian women. 



52 EVANGELINE 

Driving in ponderous wains tlieir household goods to 
the sea-shore, 

Pausing and looking back to gaze once more on their 
dwellings, 

Ere they were shut from sight by the winding road 
and the w^oodland. 510 

Close at their sides their children ran, and urged on 
the oxen, 

While in their little hands they clasped some frag- 
ments of playthings. 

Thus to the Gaspereau's mouth they hurried ; and 

there on the sea-beach 
Piled in confusion lay the household goods of the 

peasants. 
All day long between the shore and the ships did 

the boats ply; 515 

All day long the wains came laboring down from the 

village. 
Late in the afternoon, when the sun was near to his 

setting. 
Echoed far o'er the fields came the roll of drums from 

the churchyard. 
Thither the women and children thronged. On a sud- 
den the church-doors 
Opened, and forth came the guard, and marching in 

gloomy procession 520 

Followed the long-imprisoned, but patient, Acadian 

farmers. 



A TALE OF AC ABIE, 58 

Even as pilgrims, who journey afar from their homes 

and their country, 
Sing as they go, and in singing forget they are weary 

and wayworn, 
So with songs on their lips the Acadian peasants de- 
scended 
Down from the church to the shore, amid their wives 

and their daughters. 525 

Foremost the young men came; and, raising together 

their voices. 
Sang with tremulous lips a chant of the Catholic 

Missions : — 
" Sacred heart of the Saviour ! inexhaustible 

fountain ! 
Fill our hearts this day with strength and submission 

and patience ! ^^ 
Then the old men, as they marched, and the women 

that stood by the wayside 530 

Joined in the sacred psalm, and the birds in the 

sunshine above them 
Mingled their notes therewith, like voices of spirits 

departed. 

Half-way down to the shore Evangeline waited in 
silence, 

Not overcome with grief, but strong in the hour of 
affliction, — 

Calmly and sadly she waited, until the procession ap- 
proached her, 535 



54 EVANGELINE: 

And she beheld the face of Gabriel pale with emotion. 

Tears then filled her eyes, and, eagerly running to meet 
him, 

Clasped she his hands, and laid her head on his shoul- 
der, and whispered, — 
^^ Gabriel ! be of good cheer ! for if we love one 
another 

ISTothing, in truth, can harm us, whatever mischances 
may happen V 540 

Smiling she spake these words ; then suddenly paused, 
for her father 

Saw she slowly advancing. Alas ! how changed was 
his aspect ! 

Gone was the glow from his cheek, and the fire from 
his eye, and his footstep 

Heavier seemed with the weight of the heavy heart 
in his bosom. 

But with a smile and a sigh, she clasped his neck 
and embraced him, 545 

Speaking words of endearment where words of comfort 
availed not. 

Thus to the Gaspereau's mouth moved on that mourn- 
ful procession. 

There disorder prevailed, and the tumult and stir 

of embarking. 
Busily plied the freighted boats ; and in the confusion 
Wives were torn from their husbands, and mothers, 

too late, saw their children 550 



A TALE OF ACADIE. 55 

Left on the land, extending their arms, with wildest 

entreaties. 
So unto separate ships were Basil .and Gabriel car- 
ried, 
While in despair on the shore Evangeline stood with 

her father. 
Half the task was not done when the sun went down, 

and the twilight 
Deepened and darkened around ; and in haste the ref- 
luent ocean 555 
Fled away from the shore, and left the line of the 

sand-beach 
Covered with waifs of the tide, with kelp and the 

slipping sea-weed. 
Farther back in the midst of the household goods and 

the wagons. 
Like to a gypsy camp, or a leaguer after a battle. 
All escape cut off by the sea, and the sentinels near 

them, 560 

Lay encamped for the night the houseless Acadian 

farmers. 
Back to its nethermost caves retreated the bellowing 

ocean. 
Dragging adown the beach the rattling pebbles, and 

leaving 
Inland and far up the shore the stranded boats of the 

sailors. 
Then, as the night descended, the herds returned from 

their pastures ; 565 



66 EVANGELINE: 

Sweet was the moist still air with the odor of milk 

from their udders ; 
Lowing they waited, and long, at the well-known bars 

of the f arm-yardj — 
Waited and looked in vain for the voice and the hand 

of the milk-maid. 
Silence reigned in the streets ; from the church no An- 

gelus sounded, 
Rose no smoke from the roofs, and gleamed no lights 

from the windows. 570 

But on the shores meanwhile the evening fires had 
been kindled, 

Built of the drift-wood thrown on the sands from 
wrecks in the tempest. 

Bound them shapes of gloom and sorrowful faces were 
gathered, 

Voices of women were heard, and of men, and the cry- 
ing of children. 

Onward from fire to fire, as- from hearth to hearth in 
his parish, 575 

Wandered the faithful priest, consoling and blessing 
and cheering. 

Like unto shipwrecked Paul on Melita's desolate sea- 
shore. 

Thus he approached the place where Evangeline sat 
with her father, 

And in the flickering light beheld the face of the old 
man, 



A TALE OF AC ABIE. 57 

Haggard and hollow and wan, and without- either 
thought or emotion, 580 

E'en as the face of a clock from which the hands have 
been taken. 

Vainly Evangeline strove with words and caresses to 
cheer him, 

Vainly offered him food ; yet he moved not, he looked 
not, he spake not, 

But, with a vacant stare, ever gazed at the flickering 
fire-light. 
^^ Benedicite I '' murmured the priest, in tones of com- 
passion. 585 

More he fain would have said, but his heart was full, 
and his accents 

Faltered and paused on his lips, as the feet of a child 
on a threshold. 

Hushed by the scene he beholds, and the awful pres- 
ence of sorrow. 

Silently, therefore, he laid his hand on the head of the 
maiden, 

Eaising his tearful eyes to the silent stars that above 
them 590 

Moved on their way, unperturbed by the wrongs and 
sorrows of mortals. 

Then sat he down at her side, and they wept together 
in silence. 

Suddenly rose from the south a light, as in autumn 
the blood-red 



58 EVANGELINE: 

Moon climbs the crystal walls of heaven, and o'er the 
horizon 

Titan-like stretches its hundred hands upon the moun- 
tain and meadow, 595 

Seizing the rocks and the rivers and piling huge shad- 
ows together. 

Broader and ever broader it gleamed on the roofs of 
the village, 

Gleamed on the sky and sea, and the ships that lay in 
the roadstead. 

Columns of shining smoke uprose, and flashes of flame 
were 

Thrust through their folds and withdrawn, like the 
quivering hands of a martyr. 600 

Then as the wind seized the gleeds and the burning 
thatch, and, uplifting. 

Whirled them aloft through the air, at once from a 
hundred house-tops 

Started the sheeted smoke with flashes of flame inter- 
mingled. 

These things beheld in dismay the crowd on the 
shore and on shipboard. 
Speechless at first they stood, then cried aloud in their 
anguish, 602 

"We shall behold no more our homes in the village 
of Grand-Pre ! *' 
Loud on a sudden the cocks began to crow in the farm- 
yards, 



A TALE OF ACADIE. 59 

Thinking the day had daAvned ; and anon the lowing 

of cattle 
Came on the evening breeze, by the barking of dogs 

interrupted. 
Then rose a sound of dread, such as startles the sleep- 
ing encampments ' 6io 
Far in the western prairies or forests that skirt the 

Nebraska, 
When the wild horses affrighted sweep by with the 

speed of the whirlwind, 
Or the loud bellowing herds of buffaloes rush to the 

river. 
Such was the sound that arose on the night, as the 

herds and the horses 
Broke through their folds and fences, and madly rushed 

o'er the meadows. 6i5 

Overwhelmed with the sight, yet speechless, the 

priest and the maiden 
Gazed on the scene of terror that reddened and widened 

before them ; 
And as they turned at length to speak to their silent 

companion, 
Lo ! from his seat he had fallen, and stretched abroad 

on the sea-shore 
Motionless lay his form, from which the soul had 

departed. 620 

Slowly the priest uplifted the lifeless head, and the 

maiden 



60 EVANGELINE: 

Knelt at her father's side, and wailed aloud in her terror. 
Then in a swoon she sank, and lay with her head on 

his bosom. 
Through the long night she lay in deep, oblivious 

slumber ; 
And when she awoke from the trance, she beheld a 

multitude near her. 625 

Faces of friends she beheld, that were mournfully 

gazing upon her. 
Pallid, with tearful eyes, and looks of saddest com- 
passion. 
Still the blaze of the burning village illumined the 

landscape, 
Eeddened the sky overhead, and gleamed on the faces 

around her, 
And like the day of doom it seemed to her wavering 

senses. eso 

Then a familiar voice she heard, as it said to the 

people, — 
" Let us bury him here by the sea. When a happier 

season 
Brings us again to our homes from the unknown land 

of our exile, 
Then shall his sacred dust be piously laid in the 

churchyard." 
Such were the words of the priest. And there in 

haste by the sea-side, 635 

Having the glare of the burning village for funeral 

torches, 



A TALE OF ACAD IE, 61 

But without bell or book, they buried the farmer of 

Grand-Pre. 
And as the voice of the priest repeated the service 

of sorrow, 
Lo ! with a mournful sound, like the voice of a vast 

congregation, 
Solemnly answered the sea, and mingled its roar with 

the dirges. 64o 

'Twas the returning tide, that afar from the waste of 

the ocean, 
With the first dawn of the day, came heaving and 

hurrying landward. 
Then recommenced once more the stir and noise of 

embarking ; 
And with the ebb of the tide the ships sailed out 

of the harbor. 
Leaving behind them the dead on the shore, and the 

village in ruins. 645 



62 EVANGELINE 



PAET THE SECOND. 



Many a weary year had passed since the burning of 
Grand-Pre, 

When on the falling tide the freighted vessels de- 
parted, 

Bearing a nation, with all its household gods, into exile. 

Exile without an end, and without an example in story. 

Ear asunder, on separate coasts, the Acadians landed ; 

Scattered were they, like flakes of snow, when the 
wind from the northeast 6 

Strikes aslant through the fogs that darken the Banks 
of Newfoundland. 

Eriendless, homeless, hopeless, they wandered from 
city to city, 

From the cold lakes of the North to sultry Southern 
savannas, — . 

Erom the bleak shores of the sea to the lands where 
the Eather of Waters lo 

Seizes the hills in his hands, and drags them down 
to the ocean, 

Deep in their souls to bury the scattered bones of 
the mammoth. 

Eriends they sought and homes; and many, despair- 
ing, heart-broken, 



A TALE OF AC ABIE. 63 

Asked of the earth but a grave, and no longer a 
friend nor a fireside. 

Written their history stands on tablets of stone in 
the churchyards. 15 

Long among them was seen a maiden Trho waited and 
wandered, 

Lowly and meek in spirit, and patiently suffering all 
things. 

Fair was she and young : but, alas I before her ex- 
tended, 

Dreary and vast and silent, the desert of life, with 
its pathway 

Marked by the graves of those who had sorrowed and 
suffered before her, 20 

Passions long extinguished, and hopes long dead and 
abandoned, 

As the emigrant's way o'er the Western desert is 
marked by 

Camp-fires long consumed, and bones that bleach in 
the sunshine. 

Something there was in her life incomplete, imper- 
fect, unfinished ; 

As if a morning of June, with all its music and 
sunshine, 25 

Suddenly paused in the sky, and, fading, slowly de- 
scended 

Into the east again, from whence it late had arisen. 

Sometimes she lingered in towns, till, urged by the 
fever within her, 



64 EVANGELINE : 

Urged by a restless longing, the hunger and thirst 
of the spirit. 

She would commence again her endless search and 
endeavor ; 30 

Sometimes in churchyards strayed, and gazed on the 
crosses and tombstones, 

Sat by some nameless grave, and thought that perhaps 
in its bosom 

He was already at rest, and she longed to slumber be- 
side him. 

Sometimes a rumor, a hearsay, an inarticulate whisper. 

Came with its airy hand to point and beckon her for- 
ward. 35 

Sometimes she spake with those who had seen her be- 
loved and known him. 

But it was long ago, in some far-off place or forgotten. 
'' Gabriel Lajeunesse ! '^ they said ; ^^ Oh yes ! we 
have seen him. 

He was with Basil the blacksmith, and both have gone 
to the prairies ; 

Coureurs-des-Bois are they, and famous hunters and 
trappers." 40 

" Gabriel Lajeunesse ! " said others ; " Oh yes ! we 
have seen him. 

He is a Voyageur in the lowlands of Louisiana." 

Then would they say, " Dear child ! why dream and 
wait for him longer ? 

Are there not other youths as fair as Gabriel ? others 

Who have hearts as tender and true, and spirits as loyal,? 



A TALE OF AC AD IE. 65 

Here is Baptiste Leblanc, the notary's son, who has 

loved thee 
Many a tedious year ; come, give him- thy hand and 

be happy ! 
Thou art too fair to be left to braid St. Catherine's 

tresses.'' 
Then would Evangeline answer, serenely but sadly, " I 

cannot ! 
Whither my heart has gone, there follows my hand, 

and not elsewhere. 50 

For when the heart goes before, like a lamp, and il- 
lumines the pathway. 
Many things are made clear, that else lie hidden in 

darkness." 
Thereupon the priest, her friend and father-confessor, 
Said, with a smile, "0 daughter ! thy God thus speak- 

eth within thee ! 
Talk not of wasted affection, affection never was 

wasted ; 55 

If it enrich not the heart of another, its waters, return- 
ing 
Back to their springs, like the rain, shall fill them full 

of refreshment ; 
That which the fountain sends forth returns again to 

the fountain. 
Patience ; accomplish thy labor ; accomplish thy work 

of affection ! 
Sorrow, and silence are strong, and patient endurance 

is godlike. eo 



66 EVANGELINE : 

Therefore accomplisli thy labor of love^ till the heart 

is made godlike^ 
Purified, strengthened, perfected, and rendered more 

worthy of heaven ! ^^ 
Cheered by the good man's words, Evangeline labored 

and waited. 
Still in her heart she heard the funeral dirge of the 

ocean, 
But with its sound there was mingled a voice that 
• whispered, '' Despair not ! '' 65 

Thus did that poor soul wander in Avant and cheerless 

discomfort. 
Bleeding, barefooted, over the shards and thorns of 

existence. 
Let me essay, Muse ! to follow the wanderer's foot- 
steps ; — 
Not through each devious path, each changeful year of 

existence. 
But as a traveller follows a streamlet's course through 

the valley : 70 

Far from its margin at times, and seeing the gleam 

of its water 
Here and there, in some open space, and at intervals only ; 
Then drawing nearer its banks, through sylvan glooms 

that conceal it, 
Though he behold it not, he can hear its continuous 

murmur ; 
Happy, at length, if he find the spot where it reaches 

an outlet. 75 



A TALE OF ACADIE. 67 

II 

It was the month of May. Far down the Beautiful 
River, 

Past the Ohio shore and past the mouth of the Wabash, 

Into the golden stream of the broad and swift Mis- 
sissippi, 

Floated a cumbrous boat, that was rowed by Acadian 
boatmen. 

It was a band of exiles : a raft, as it were, from the 
shipwrecked so 

Nation, scattered along the coast, now floating together, 

Bound by the bonds of a common belief and a common 
misfortune ; 

Men and women and children, who, guided by hope or 
by hearsay. 

Sought for their kith and their kin among the few- 
acred farmers 

On the Acadian coast, and the prairies of fair Ope- 
lousas. 85 

With them Evangeline went, and her guide, the Father 
Felician. 

Onward o'er sunken sands, through a wilderness sombre 
with forests. 

Day after day they glided adown the turbulent river ; 

Night after night, by their blazing fires, encamped on 
its borders. 

Now through rushing chutes, among green islands, 
where plumelike - 90 



68 EVANGELINE: 

Cotton-trees nodded their shadowy crests, they swept 
with the current, 

Then emerged into broad lagoons, where silvery sand- 
bars 

Lay in the stream, and along the wimpling waves of 
their margin, 

Shining with snow-white plumes, large flocks of peli- 
cans waded. 

Level the landscape grew, and along the shores of 
the river, 95 

Shaded by china-trees, in the midst of luxuriant gar- 
dens. 

Stood the houses of planters, with negro-cabins and 
dove-cots. 

They were approaching the region where reigns per- 
petual summer. 

Where through the Golden Coast, and groves of orange 
and citron, 

Sweeps with majestic curve the river aw^ay to the 
eastward. 100 

They, too, swerved from their course ; and entering 
the Bayou of Plaquemine, 

Soon were lost in a maze of sluggish and devious 
waters, 

Which, like a network of steel, extended in every 
direction. 

Over their heads the towering and tenebrous boughs 
of the cypress 

Met in a dusky arch, and trailing mosses in mid-air 



A TALE OF AC ABIE, 69 

Waved like banners that hang on the walls of ancient 
cathedrals. io6 

Deathlike the silence seemed^ and unbroken^ save by 
the herons 

Home to their nests in the cedar-trees returning at 
sunset, 

Or by the owl, as he greeted the moon with demoniac 
laughter. 

Lovely the moonlight was as it glanced and gleamed 
on the water, no 

Gleamed on the columns of cypress and cedar sus- 
taining the arches, 

Down through whose broken vaults it fell as through 
chinks in a ruin. 

Dreamlike, and indistinct, and strange were all things 
around them; 

And o'er their spirits there came a feeling of won- 
der and sadness, — 

Strange forebodings of ill, unseen and that cannot be 
compassed. 115 

As, at the tramp of a horse's hoof on the turf of 
the prairies. 

Far in advance are closed the leaves of the shrinking 
mimosa. 

So, at the hoof -beats of fate, with sad forebodings of evil. 

Shrinks and closes the heart, ere the stroke of doom 
has attained it. 

But Evangeline's heart was sustained by a vision, 
that faintly ' 120 



70 EVANGELINE: 

Floated before her eyes, and beckoned her on through 

the moonlight. 
It w.as the thought of her brain that assumed the 

shape of a phantom. 
Through those shadowy aisles had Gabriel wandered 

before her, 
And every stroke of the oar now brought him nearer 

and nearer. 

Then in his place, at the prow of the boat, rose one 

of the oarsmen, 125 

And, as a signal sound, if others like them peradventure 
Sailed on those gloomy and midnight streams, blew a 

blast on his bugle. 
.Wild through the dark colonnades and corridors leafy 

the blast rang. 
Breaking the seal of silence, and giving tongues to 

the forest. 
Soundless above them the banners of moss just stirred 

to the music. 130 

Multitudinous echoes awoke and died in the distance, 
Over the watery floor, and beneath the reverberant 

branches ; 
But not a voice • replied ; no answer came from the 

darkness ; 
And, when the echoes had ceased, like a sense of 

pain was the silence. 
Then Evangeline slept ; but the boatmen rowed 

through the midnight, 135 



A TALE OF AC ABIE. 71 

Silent at times, then singing familiar Canadian boat- 
songs, 

Such as they sang of old" on their own Acadian rivers, 

While through the night were heard the mysterious 
sounds of the desert, 

Ear off, — indistinct, — as of wave or wind in the 
forest, 

Mixed with the whoop of the crane and the roar of 
the grim alligator. i4o 

Thus ere another noon they emerged from the 
shades; and before them 

Lay in the golden sun, the lakes of the Atchafalaya. 

Water-lilies in myriads rocked on the slight undula- 
tions 

Made by the passing oars, and, resplendent in beauty, 
the lotus 

Lifted her golden crown above the heads of the boat- 
men. 145 

Faint was the air with the odorous breath of magnolia 
blossoms, 

And with the heat of noon ; and numberless sylvan 
islands, 

Fragrant and thickly embowered with blossoming hedges 
of roses, 

Near to whose shores they glided along, invited to 
slumber. 

Soon by the fairest of these their weary oars were 
suspended. i5o 



72 EVANGELINE : 

Under the boughs of Wachita willows, that grew by 
the margin, 

Safely their boat was moored ; and scattered about 
on the greensward, 

Tired with their midnight toil, the weary travellers 
slumbered. 

Over them vast and high extended the cope of a cedar. 

Swinging from its great arms, the trumpet-flower and 
the grapevine 155 

Hung their ladder of ropes aloft like the ladder of 
Jacob, 

On whose pendulous stairs the angels ascending, de- 
scending. 

Were the swift humming-birds, that flitted from blos- 
som to blossom. 

Such was the vision Evangeline saw as she slumbered 
beneath it. 

Filled was her heart with love, and the dawn of an 
opening heaven I60 

Lighted her soul in sleep with the glory of regions 
celestial. 

Nearer, and ever nearer, among the numberless 

islands. 
Darted a light, swift boat, that sped away o'er the water. 
Urged on its course by the sinewy arms of hunters 

and trappers. 
Northward its prow was turned, to the land of the 

bison and beaver. i65 



A TALE OF ACADIE. 73 

At the helm sat a youth, with countenance thoughtful 

and careworn. 
Dark and neglected locks overshadowed his brow, and 

a sadness 
Somewhat beyond his years on his face was legibly 

written. 
Gabriel was it, who, weary with waiting, unhappy and 

restless. 
Sought in the Western wilds oblivion of self and of 

sorrow. 170 

Swiftly they glided along, close under the lee of the island. 
But by the opposite bank, and behind a screen of 

palmettos, 
So that they saw not the boat, where it lay concealed 

in the willows ; 
All undisturbed by the dash of their oars, and unseen, 

were the sleepers. 
Angel of God was there none to awaken the slumber- 
ing maiden. 175 
Swiftly they glided away, like the shade of a cloud 

on the prairie. 
After the sound of their oars on the tholes had died 

in the distance, 
As from a magic trance the sleepers awoke, and the 

maiden 
Said with a sigh to the friendly priest, '' Father 

Felician ! 
Something says in my heart that near me Gabriel 

wanders. 18O 



74 EVANGELINE 

Is it a foolish dream, an idle and vague superstition ? 
Or has an angel passed, and revealed the truth to my 

spirit ? '' 
Then, with a blush, she added, '' Alas for my credulous 

fancy ! 
Unto ears like thine such words as these have no 

meaning/' 
But made answer the reverend man, and he smiled 

as he answered, — i85 

'' Daughter, thy words are not idle ; nor are they to 

me without meaning. 
Feeling is deep and still ; and the word that floats on 

the surface 
Is as the tossing buoy, that betrays where the anchor 

is hidden. 
Therefore trust to thy heart, and to what the world 

calls illusions. 
Gabriel truly is near thee ; for not far away to the 

southward, 190 

On the banks of the Teche, are the towns of St. Maur 

and St. Martin. 
There the long-wandering bride shall be given again 

to her bridegroom. 
There the long-absent pastor regain his flock and his 

sheepfold. 
Beautiful is the land, with its prairies and forests of 

fruit-trees ; 
Under the feet a garden of flowers, and the bluest 

of heavens 195 



A TALE OF ACADIE. 75 

Bending above, and resting its dome on the walls 

of the forest. 
They who dwell there have named it the Eden of 

Louisiana.'' 

With these words of cheer they arose and continued 

their journey. 
Softly the evening came. The sun from the western 

horizon 
Like a magician extended his golden wand o'er the 

landscape ; 200 

Twinkling vapors arose ; and sky and water and forest 
Seemed all on fire at the touch, and melted and 

mingled together. 
Hanging between two skies, a cloud with edges of 

silver, 
Floated the boat, with its dripping oars, on the mo- 
tionless water. 
Filled was Evangeline's heart with inexpressible sweet- 
. ness. 205 

Touched by the magic spell, the sacred fountains of 

feeling 
Glowed with the light of love, as the skies and waters 

around her. 
Then from a neighboring thicket the • mocking bird, 

wildest of singers. 
Swinging aloft on a willow spray that hung o'er the water, 
Shook from his little throat such floods of delirious 

music, 210 



76 EVANGELINE : 

That the whole air and the woods and the waves 
seemed silent to listen. 

Plaintive at first were the tones and sad : then soar- 
ing to madness 

Seemed they to follow or guide the revels of frenzied 
Bacchantes. 

Single notes were then heard, in sorrowful, low lam- 
entation ; 

Till, having gathered them all, he flung them abroad 
in derision, 215 

As when, after a storm, a gust of wind through the 
tree-tops 

Shakes down the rattling rain in a crystal shower 
on the branches. 

With such a prelude as this, and hearts that throbbed 
with emotion. 

Slowly they entered the Teche, where it flows through 
the green Opelousas, 

And, through the amber air, above the crest of the 
woodland, 220 

Saw the column of smoke that arose from a neigh- 
boring dwelling ; — 

Sounds of a horn they heard, and the distant lowing 
of cattle. 

III. 

Near to the bank of the river, overshadowed by oaks, 

from whose branches 
Garlands of Spanish moss and of mystic mistletoe 

flaunted, 



A TALE OF ACADIE. 77 

Such as the Druids cut down with golden hatchets 
at Yule-tide, 225 

Stood, secluded and still, the house of the herdsman. 
A garden 

Girded it round about with a belt of luxuriant blos- 
soms, 

Filling the air with fragrance. The house itself was 
of timbers 

Hewn from the cypress-tree, and carefully fitted 
together. 

Large and low was the roof; and on slender columns 
supported, 230 

Eose-wreathed, vine-encircled, a broad and spacious 
veranda. 

Haunt of the humming-bird and the bee, extended 
around it. 

At each end of the house, amid the flowers of the 
garden, 

Stationed the dove-cots were, as love's perpetual 
symbol. 

Scenes of endless wooing, and endless contentions of 
rivals. . 235 

Silence reigned o'er the place. The line of shadow 
and sunshine 

Ean near the tops of the trees ; but the house itself 
was in shadow. 

And from its chimney-top, ascending and slowly ex- 
panding 

Into the evening air, a thin blue column of smoke rose. 



78 EVANGELINE: 

In the rear of the house, from the garden gate, ran 
a pathway 240 

Through the great groves of oak to the skirts of the 
limitless prairie, 

Into whose sea of flowers the sun was slowly de- 
scending. 

Full in his track of light, like ships with shadowy 
canvas 

Hanging loose from their spars in a motionless calm 
in the tropics, 

Stood a cluster of trees, with tangled cordage of 
grape-vines. 245 

Just where the woodlands met the flowery surf of 

the prairie, 
Mounted upon his horse, with Spanish saddle and 

stirrups, 
Sat a herdsman, arrayed in gaiters and doublet of 

deerskin. 
Broad and brown was the face that from under the 

Spanish sombrero 
Gazed on the peaceful scene, with the lordly look of 

its master. 250 

Round about him were numberless herds of kine, that 

were grazing 
Quietly in the meadows, and breathing the vapory 

freshness 
That uprose from the river, and spread itself over 

the landscape. 



A TALE OF ACABIE. 79 

Slowly lifting the horn that hung at his side, and 

expanding 
Eully his broad, deep chest, he blew a blast, that 

resounded 255 

Wildly and sweet and far, through the still damp 

air of the evening. 
Suddenly out of the grass the long white horns of 

the cattle 
Eose like flakes of foam on the adverse currents of ocean. 
Silent a moment they gazed, then bellowing rushed 

o'er the prairie. 
And the whole mass became a cloud, a shade in the 

distance. 260 

Then, as the herdsman turned to the house, through 

the gate of the garden 
Saw he the forms of the priest and the maiden ad- 
vancing to meet him. 
Suddenly down from his horse he sprang in amaze- 
ment, and forward 
Eushed with extended arms and exclamations of 

wonder ; 
When they beheld his face, they recognized Basil the 

blacksmith. 265 

Hearty his welcome was, as he led his guests to the 

garden. 
There in an arbor of roses with endless question and 

answer 
Gave they vent to their hearts, and renewed their 

friendly embraces, 



80 EVANGELINE: 

Laughing and weeping by turns^ or sitting silent and 

thoughtful. 
Thoughtful, for Gabriel came not ; and now dark 

doubts and misgivings 270 

Stole o'er the maiden's heart ; and Basil, somewhat 

embarrassed, 
Broke the silence and said, " If you came by the 

Atchafalaya, 
How have you nowhere encountered my Gabriel's 

boat on the bayous ? '' 
Over Evangeline's face at the words of Basil a shade 

passed. 
Tears came into her eyes, and she said, with a tremu- 
lous accent, 275 
" Gone ? is Gabriel gone ? " and, concealing her face 

on his shoulder. 
All her overburdened heart gave way, and she wept 

and lamented. 
Then the good Basil said, — and his voice grew blithe 

as he said it, — 
" Be of good cheer, my child ; it is only to-day he 

departed. 
Foolish boy ! he has left me alone with my herds 

and my horses. 280 

Moody and restless grown, and tired and troubled, 

his spirit ^ 
Could no longer endure the calm of this quiet ex- 
istence. 
Thinking ever of thee, uncertain and sorrowful ever, 



A TALE OF ACADIE. 81 

Ever silent, or speaking only of thee and his troubles, 
He at length had become so tedious to men and to 

maidens, 285 

Tedious even to me, that at length I bethought me, 

and sent him 
Unto the town of Adayes to trade for mules with 

the Spaniards. 
Thence he will follow the Indian trails to the Ozark 

Mountains, 
Hunting for furs in the forests, on rivers trapping 

the beaver. 
Therefore be of good cheer ; we will follow the fugi- 
tive lover ; 290 
He is not far on his way, and the Fates and the 

streams are against him. 
Up and away to-morrow, and through the red dew 

of the morning 
We will follow him fast, and bring him back to his 

prison.'' 

Then glad voices were heard, and up from the 
banks of the river. 

Borne aloft on his comrades' arms, came Michael the 
fiddler. 295 

Long under Basil's ' roof had he lived like a god on 
Olympus, 

Having no other care than dispensing music to mortals. 

Far renowned was he for his silver locks and his fiddle. 
'' Long live Michael," they cried, " our brave Aca- 
dian minstrel ! " 



82 EVANGELINE: 

As they bore him aloft in triumphal procession ; and 

straightway 300 

Father Felician advanced with Evangeline, greeting 

the old man 
Kindly and oft, and recalling tlie past, while Basil, 

enraptured. 
Hailed with hilarious joy his old companions and 

gossips, 
Laughing loud and long, and embracing mothers and 

daughters. 
Much they marvelled to see the wealth of the ci- 
devant blacksmith, 305 
All his domains and his herds, and his patriarchal 

demeanor ; 
Much they marvelled to hear his tales of the soil 

and the climate. 
And of the prairies, whose numberless herds were 

his who would take them ; 
Each one thought in his heart, that he, too, would 

go and do likewise. 
Thus they ascended the steps, and crossing the breezy 

veranda, 310 

Entered the hall of the house, where already the 

supper of Basil 
Waited his late return ; and they rested and feasted 

together. 

Over the joyous feast the sudden darkness de- 
scended. 



A TALE OF ACADIK 83 

All was silent without^ and, illuming the landscape 

with silver, 
Fair rose the dewy moon and the myriad stars ; but 

within doors, 315 

Brighter than these, shone the faces of friends in 

the glimmering lamplight. 
Then from his station aloft, at the head of the table, 

the herdsman 
Poured forth his heart and his wine together in end- 
less profusion. 
Lighting his pipe, that was filled with sweet j^atchi- 

toches tobacco, 
Thus he spake to his guests, who listened, and smiled 

as they listened : — 320 

"Welcome once more, my friends, who long have 

been friendless and homeless. 
Welcome once more to a home, that is better per- 
chance than the old one ! 
Here no hungry winter congeals our blood like the 

rivers ; 
Here no stony ground provokes the wrath of the 

farmer. 
Smoothly the ploughshare runs through the soil, as 

a keel through the water. 325 

All the year round the orange-groves are in blossom ; 

and grass grows 
More in a single night than a whole Canadian summer. 
Here, too, numberless herds run wild and unclaimed 

in the prairies ; 



84 EVANGELINE : 

Here, too, lands may be had for the asking, and 

forests of timber 
With a few blows of the axe are hewn and framed 

into houses. 330 

After your houses are built, and your fields are yellow 

with harvests, 
No King George of England shall drive you away 

from your homesteads. 
Burning your dwellings and barns, and stealing your 

farms and your cattle.'' 
Speaking these words, he blew a wrathful cloud from 

his nostrils, 
While his huge, brown hand came thundering down 

on the table, 335 

So that the guests all started ; and Father Felician, 

astounded, 
Suddenly paused, with a pinch of snuff half-way to 

his nostrils. 
But the brave Basil resumed, and his words were 

milder and gayer : — 
'' Only beware of the fever, my friends, beware of 

the fever ! 
For it is not like that of our cold Acadian climate, 340 
Cured by wearing a spider hung round one's neck 

in a nutshell ! " 
Then there were voices heard at the door, and foot- 
steps approaching 
Sounded upon the stairs and the floor of the breezy 

veranda. 



A TALE OF AC ABIE. 85 

It was the neighboring Creoles and small Acadian 
planters, 

Who had been summoned all to the house of Basil 
the Herdsman. 345 

Merry the meeting was of ancient comrades and 
neighbors : 

Friend clasped friend in his arms ; and they who 
before were as strangers, 

Meeting in exile, became straightway as friends to 
each other, 

Drawn by the gentle bond of a common country 
together. 

But in the neighboring hall a strain of music, pro- 
ceeding 350 

From the accordant strings of MichaePs melodious fiddle, 

Broke up all further speech. Away, like children 
delighted. 

All things forgotten beside, they gave themselves to 
the maddening 

Whirl of the giddy dance, as it swept and swayed 
to the music. 

Dreamlike, with beaming eyes and the rush of flut- 
tering garments. 355 

Meanwhile, apart, at the head of the hall, the priest 

and the herdsman 
Sat, conversing together of past and present and future ; 
While Evangeline stood like one entranced, for within 

her 



86 EVANGELINE: 

Olden memories rose, and loud in the midst of the music 
Heard she the sound of the sea, and an irrepressible 

sadness 360 

Came o'er her heart, and unseen she stole forth into 

the garden. 
Beautiful was the night. Behind the black wall of 

the forest, 
Tipping its summit with silver, arose the moon. On 

the river 
Fell here and there through the branches a tremulous 

gleam of the moonlight. 
Like the sweet thoughts of love on a darkened and 

devious spirit. 365 

Nearer and round about her, the manifold flowers of 

the garden 
Poured out their souls in odors, that were their prayers 

and confessions 
Unto the night, as it went its way, like a silent 

Carthusian. 
Fuller of fragrance than they, and as heavy with 

shadows and night-dews. 
Hung the heart of the maiden. The calm and the 

magical moonlight 370 

Seemed to inundate her soul with indefinable longings, 
As, through the garden-gate, and beneath the shade 

of the oak-trees. 
Passed she along the path to the edge of the meas- 
ureless prairie. 
Silent it lay, with a silvery haze upon it, and fire-flies 



A TALE OF ACADIE. 87 

Gleamed and floated away in mingled and infinite 

numbers. 375 

Over her head the stars, the thoughts of God in the 

heavens, 
Shone on the eyes of man, who had ceased to marvel 

and worship, 
Save when a blazing comet was seen on the walls of 

that temple, 
As if a hand had appeared and written upon them, 

" Upharsin." 
And the soul of the maiden, between the stars and 

the fire-flies, 380 

Wandered alone, and she cried, '' Gabriel ! my 

beloved ! 
Art thou so near unto me, and yet I cannot behold 

thee? 
Art thou so near unto me, and yet thy voice does 

not reach me ? 
Ah ! how often thy feet have trod this path to the 

prairie ! 
Ah ! how often thine eyes have looked on the wood- 
lands around me ! ass 
Ah ! how often beneath this oak, returning from labor. 
Thou hast lain down to rest, and to dream of me 

in thy slumbers ! 
When shall these eyes behold, these arms be folded 

about thee ? -' 
Loud and sudden and near the notes of a whippoor- 

will sovmded 



88 EVANGELINE : 

Like a flute in the woods ; and anon^ through the 
neighboring thickets, 390 

Farther and farther away it floated and dropped into 
silence. 
'^ Patience ! ^' whispered the oaks from oracular cav- 
erns of darkness : 

And, from the moonlit meadow, a sigh responded, 
^^ "To-morrow! '^ 

Bright rose the sun next day; and all the flowers 
of the garden 

Bathed his shining feet with their tears, and anointed 
his tresses 395 

With the delicious balm that they bore in their vases 
of crystal. 
" Farewell ! '' said the priest, as he stood at the 

shadowy threshold ; 
"See that you bring us the Prodigal Son from his 
fasting and famine. 

And, too, the Foolish Virgin, who slept when the 
bridegroom was coming.'' 
" Farewell ! " answered the maiden, and, smiling, 
with Basil descended 400 

Down to the river's brink, where the boatmen already 
were waiting. 

Thus beginning their journey with morning, and sun- 
shine, and gladness, 

Swiftly they followed the* flight of him who was speed- 
ing before them, 



A TALE OF ACADIE, 89 

Blown by the blast of fate like a dead leaf over the 

desert. 
Not that day, nor the next, nor yet the day that 

succeeded, 405 

Found they the trace of his course, in lake or forest 

or river, 
Nor, after many days, had they found him ; but vague 

and uncertain 
Eumors alone were their guides through a wild and 

desolate country ; 
Till, at the little inn of the Spanish town of Adayes, 
Weary and worn, they alighted, and learned from the 

garrulous landlord, 410 

That on the day before, with horses and guides and 

companions, 
Gabriel left the village, and took the road of the 

prairies. 

IV. 

Far in the West there lies a desert land, where the 
mountains 

Lift, through perpetual snows, their lofty and lumi- 
nous summits. 

Down from their jagged, deep ravines, where the gorge, 
like a gateway, 415 

Opens a passage rude to the wheels of the emigrant's 
wagon. 

Westward the Oregon flows and the Walleway and 
Owyhee. 



90 EVANGELINE : 

Eastward, with devious course, among the Wind-river 

Mountains, 
Through the Sweet-water Valley precipitate leaps the 

Nebraska ; 
And to the south, from Fontaine-qui-bout and the 

Spanish sierras, 420 

Fretted with sands and rocks, and swept by the wind 

of the desert, 
l^umberless torrents, with ceaseless sound, descend to 

the ocean. 
Like the great chords of a harp, in loud and solemn 

vibrations. 
Spreading between these streams are the wondrous, 

beautiful prairies ; 
Billowy bays of grass ever rolling in shadow and sun- 
shine, 425 
Bright with luxuriant clusters of roses and purple 

amorphas. 
Over them wandered the buffalo herds, and the elk 

and the roebuck ; 
Over them wandered the wolves, and herds of rider- 
less horses ; 
Fires that blast and blight, and winds that are weary 

with travel ; 
Over them wander the scattered tribes of Ishmael's 

children, 430 

Staining the desert with blood ; and above their terrible 

war-trails 
Circles and sails aloft, on pinions majestic, the vulture, 



A TALE OF AC ABIE. 91 

Like the implacable soul of a chieftain slaughtered 
in battle, 

By invisible stairs ascending and scaling the heavens. 

Here and there rise smokes from the camps of these 
savage marauders ; 435 

Here and there rise groves from the margins of swift- 
running rivers ; 

And the grim, taciturn bear, the anchorite monk of 
the desert. 

Climbs down their dark ravines to dig for roots by 
the brook-side. 

And over all is the sky, the clear and crystalline 
heaven, 

Like the protecting hand of God inverted above them. 

Into this wonderful land, at the base of the Ozark 

Mountains, 
Gabriel far had entered, with hunters and trappers 

behind him. 
Day after day, with their Indian guides, the maiden 

and Basil 
Followed his flying steps, and thought each day to 

overtake him. 
Sometimes they saw, or thought they saw, the smoke 

of his camp-fire 445 

Kise in the morning air from the distant plain ; but 

at nightfall. 
When they had reached the place they found only 

embers and ashes. 



92 EVANGELINE: 

And, though their hearts were sad at times and their 

bodies were weary, 
Hope still guided them on, as the magic Fata Morgana 
Showed them her lakes of light, that retreated and 

vanished before them. 450 

Once, as they sat by their evening fire, there silently 

entered 
Into their little camp an Indian woman, whose features. 
Wore deep traces of sorrow, and patience as great as 

her sorrow. 
She was a Shawnee woman returning home to her 

people. 
From the far-off hunting-grounds of the cruel Ca- 

manches, 455 

Where her Canadian husband, a Coureur-des-Bois, had 

been murdered. 
Touched were their hearts at her story, and warmest 

and friendliest welcome 
Gave they, with words of cheer, and she sat and 

feasted among them 
On the buffalo-meat and the venison cooked on the 

embers. 
But when their meal was done, and Basil and all 

his companions, 46o 

Worn with the long day's march and the chase of 

the deer and the bison, 
Stretched themselves on the ground, and slept where 

the quivering fire-light 



A TALE OF AC ABIE. 93 

Flashed on their swarthy cheeks, and their forms 

wrapped up in their blankets, 
Then at the door of Evangeline's tent she sat and 

repeated 
Slowly, with soft, low voice, and the charm of her 

Indian accent, 465 

All the tale of her love, with its pleasures, and pains, 

and reverses. 
Much Evangeline wept at the tale, and to know that 

another 
Hapless heart like her own had loved and had been 

disappointed. 
Moved to the depths of her soul by pity and woman's 

compassion. 
Yet in her sorrow pleased that one who had suffered 

was near her, 470 

She in turn related her love and all its disasters. 
Mute with wonder the Shawnee sat, and when she 

had ended 
Still was mute ; but at length, as if a mysterious 

horror 
Passed through her brain, she spake, and repeated 

the tale of the Mowis ; 
Mo wis, the bridegroom of snow, who won and wedded 

a maiden, 475 

But, when the morning came, arose and passed from 

the wigwam, 
Fading and melting away and dissolving into the sun- 
shine. 



94 EVANGELINE: 

Till she beheld him no more, though she followed 

far into the forest. 
Then, in those sweet, low tones, that seemed like a 

weird incantation, 
Told she the tale of the fair Lilinau, who was wooed 

by a phantom, 480 

That through the pines o'er her father's lodge, in the 

hush of the twilight, 
Breathed like the evening wind, and whispered love 

to the maiden. 
Till she followed his green and waving plume through 

the forest, 
And nevermore returned, nor was seen again by her 

people. 
Silent with wonder and strange surprise, Evangeline 

listened 485 

To the soft flow of her magical words, till the region 

around her 
Seemed like enchanted ground, and her swarthy guest 

the enchantress. 
Slowly over the tops of the Ozark Mountains the moon 

. rose. 
Lighting the little tent, and with a mysterious splendor 
Touching the sombre leaves, and embracing and filling 

the woodland. 49o 

With a delicious sound the brook rushed by, and the 

branches 
Swayed and sighed overhead in scarcely audible whis- 
pers. 



A TALE OF AC ABIE. 95 

Filled with the thoughts of lore was Evangeline's 

hearty but a secret, 
Subtle sense crept in of pain and indefinite terror, 
As the cold, poisonous snake creeps into the nest of 

the swallow. 495 

It was no earthly fear. A breath from the region 

of spirits 
Seemed to float in the air of night ; and she felt 

for a moment 
That, like the Indian maid, she, too, was pursuing 

a phantom. 
With this thought she slept, and the fear and the 

phantom had vanished. 

Early upon the morrow the march was resumed ; 

and the Shawnee 500 

Said, as they journeyed along, " On the western slope 

of these mountains 
Dwells in his little village the Black Eobe chief of 

the Mission. 
Much he teaches the people, and tells them of Mary 

and Jesus. 
Loud laugh their hearts with joy, and weep with 

pain, as they hear him.'' 
Then, with a sudden and secret emotion, Evangeline 

answered, 505 

^^Let us go to the Mission, for there good tidings 

await us ! " 
Thither they turned their steeds ; and behind a spur 

of the mountains. 



96 EVANGELINE: 

Just as the sun went down, they heard a murmur 
of voices, 

And in a meadow green and broad, by the bank of 
a river, 

Saw the tents of the Christians, the tents of the Jesuit 
Mission. 510 

Under a towering oak, that stood in the midst of the 
village, 

Ejielt the Black Eobe chief with his children. A 
crucifix fastened 

High on the trunk of the tree, and overshadov/ed 
by grapevines, 

Looked with its agonized face on the multitude kneel- 
ing beneath it. 

This was their rural chapel. Aloft, through the in- 
tricate arches 515 

Of its aerial roof, arose the chant of their vespers, 

Mingling its notes with the soft susurrus and sighs 
of the branches. 

Silent, with heads uncovered, the travellers, nearer 
approaching, 

Knelt on the swarded floor, and joined in the even- 
ing devotions. 

But when the service was done, and the benediction 
had fallen 520 

Forth from the hands of the priest, like seed from 
the hands of the sower, 

Slowly the reverend man advanced to the strangers, 
and bade them 



A TALE OF ACADIE. 97 

Welcome ; and when they replied, he smiled with 

benignant expression, 
Hearing the homelike sounds of his mother-tongue in 

the forest, 
And, with words of kindness, conducted them into 

his wigwam. 525 

There upon mats and skins they reposed, and on cakes 

of the maize-ear 
Feasted, and slaked their thirst from the water-gourd 

of the teacher. 
Soon was their story told; and the priest with solem- 
nity answered : — 
^^Not six suns have risen and set since Gabriel, 

seated 
On this mat by my side, where now the maiden reposes. 
Told me this same sad tale ; then arose and continued 

his journey ! '^ 
Soft was the voice of the priest, and he spake with 

an accent of kindness ; 
But on Evangeline's heart fell his words as in winter 

the snow-flakes 
Fall into some lone nest from which the birds have 

departed. 
" Far to the north he has gone,'' continued the priest ; 

but in autumn, 535 

When the chase is done, will return again to the 

Mission.'^ 
Then Evangeline said, and her voice was meek and 

submissive, 



98 EVANGELINE: 

" Let me remain with thee, for my soul is sad and 

afflicted.^^ 
So seemed it wise and well unto all ; and betimes 

on the morrow, 
Mounting his Mexican steed, with his Indian guides 

and companions, 540 

Homeward Basil returned, and Evangeline stayed at 

the Mission. 

Slowly, slowly, slowly the days succeeded each 

other, — 
Days and weeks and months ; and the fields of maize 

that were springing 
Green from the ground when a stranger she came, 

now waving above her. 
Lifted their slender shafts, with leaves interlacing, and 

forming 545 

Cloisters for mendicant crows and granaries pillaged 

by squirrels. 
Then in the golden weather the maize was husked, 

and the maidens 
Blushed at each blood-red ear, for that betokened a lover. 
But at the crooked laughed, and called it a thief in 

the corn-field. 
Even the blood-red ear to Evangeline brought not her 

lover. 550 

" Patience ! '^ the priest would say ; '^ have faith, and 

thy prayer will be answered ! 
Look at this vigorous plant that lifts its head from 

the meadow, 



A TALE OF AC ABIE. 99 

See how its leaves are turned to the north, as true 

as the magnet ; 
This is the compass-flower, that the finger of God 

has planted 
Here in the houseless wild, to direct the traveller's 

journey '^ • 555 

Over the sea-like, pathless, limitless waste of the 

desert. 
Such in the soul of man is faith. The blossoms of 

passion, 
Gay and luxuriant flowers, are brighter and fuller 

of fragrance. 
But they beguile us, and lead us astray, and their 

odor is deadly. 
Only this humble plant can guide us here, and here- 
after 560 
Crown us with asphodel flowers, that are wet with 

the dews of nepenthe.'' 

So came the autumn, and passed, and the winter, 

— yet Gabriel came not ; 
Blossomed the opening spring, and the notes of the 

robbin and bluebird 
Sounded sweet upon wold and in wood, yet Gabriel 

came not. 
But on the breath of the summer winds a rumor was 

wafted 565 

Sweeter than song of bird, or hue or odor of blossom. 
Far to the north and east, it said, in the Michigan forests, 



100 EVANGELINE: 

Gabriel had his lodge by the banks of the Saginaw 

Eiver. 
And, with returning guides, that sought the lakes of 

St. Lawrence, 
Saying a sad farewell, Evangeline went from the 

Mission. ''' 570 

When over weary ways, by long and perilous inarches, 
She had attained at length the depths of the Michigan 

forests, 
Found she the hunter's lodge deserted and fallen to 

ruin ! 

Thus did the long sad years glide on, and in sea- 
sons and places 
Divers and distant far was seen the wandering 

maiden ; — 575 

Now in the Tents of Grace of the meek Moravian 

Missions, 
Now in the noisy camps and the battle-fields of the 

army, 
Kow in secluded hamlets, in towns and populous cities. 
Like a phantom she came, and passed away unremem- 

bered. 
Fair was she and young, when in hope began the 

long journey; 580 

Faded was she and old, when in disappointment it 

ended. 
Each succeeding year stole something away from her 

beauty, 



A TALE OF AC A DIE. 101 

Leaving behind it^ broader and deeper, the gloom and 

the shadow. 
Then there appeared and spread faint streaks of gray 

o^er her forehead, 
Dawn of another life, that broke o'er her earthly 

horizon, 585 

As in the eastern sky the first faint streaks of the 

morning. 



V. 

In" that delightful land which is washed by the Dela- 
ware waters. 
Guarding in sylvan shades the name of Penn the 

apostle. 
Stands on, the banks of its beautiful stream the city 

he founded. 
There all the air is balm, and the peach is the emblem 

of beauty, 590 

And the streets still reecho the names of the trees 

of the forest. 
As if they fain would appease the Dryads whose haunts 

they molested. 
There from the troubled sea had Evangeline landed, 

an exile, 
Finding among the children of Penn a home and a 

country. 
There old Eene Leblanc had died ; and when he 

departed, 595 



102 • EVANGELINE:. 

Saw at his side only one of all his hundred descend- 
ants. 

Something at least there was in the friendly streets 
of the city, 

Something that spake to her heart, and made her no 
longer a stranger; 

And her ear was pleased with the Thee and Thou 
of the Quakers, 

For it recalled the past, the old Acadian country, eoo 

Where all men were equal, and all were brothers and 
sisters. 

So, when the fruitless search, the disappointed en- 
deavor. 

Ended, to recommence no more upon earth, uncom- 
plaining. 

Thither, as leaves to the light, were turned her 
thoughts and her footsteps. 

As from the mountain's top the rainy mists of the 
morning 605 

EoU away, and afar we behold the landscape below 
us. 

Sun-illumined, with shining rivers and cities and 
hamlets. 

So fell the mists from her mind, and she saw the 
world far below her. 

Dark no longer, but all illumined with love ; and the 
pathway 

Which she had climbed so far, lying smooth and fair 
in the distance. ' 6io 



A TALE OF ACADIE, 103 

Gabriel was not forgotten. Within her heart was his 

image, 
Clothed in the beauty of love and youth, as last she 

beheld him, 
Only more beautiful made by his death-like silence 

and absence. 
Into her thoughts of him time entered not, for it 

was not. 
Over him years had no power ; he was not changed, 

but transfigured; 615 

He had become in her heart as one who is dead, 

and not absent ; 
Patience and abnegation of self, and devotion to others. 
This was the lesson a life of trial and sorrow had 

taught her. 
So was her love diffused, but, like to some odorous 

spices. 
Suffered no waste nor loss, though filling the air with 

aroma. 620 

Other hope had she none, nor wish in life, but to 

follow 
Meekly, with reverent steps, the sacred feet of her 

Saviour. 
Thus many years she lived as a Sister of Mercy ; 

frequenting 
Lonely and wretched roofs in the crowded lanes of 

the city. 
Where distress and want concealed themselves from 

the sunlight, 625 



104 EVANGELINE : 

Where disease and sorrow in garrets languished neg- 
lected. 
ISTight after night, when the world was asleep, as the 

watchman repeated 
Loud, through the gusty streets, that all was well 

in the city. 
High at some lonely window he saw the light of her 

taper. 
Day after day, in the gray of the dawn, as slow 

through the suburbs 630 

Plodded the German farmer, with flowers and fruits 

for the market. 
Met he that meek, pale face, returning home from 

its watchings. 

Then it came to pass that a pestilence fell on the 

city. 
Presaged by wondrous signs, and mostly by flocks of 

wild pigeons. 
Darkening the sun in their flight, with naught in 

their claws but an acorn. 635 

And, as the tides of the sea arise in the month of 

September, 
Flooding some silver stream, till it spreads to a lake 

in the meadow. 
So death flooded life, and, o'erflowing its natural 

margin. 
Spread to a brackish lake, the silver stream of ex- 
istence. 



A TALE OF ACADIE. 105 

Wealth had no power to bribe, nor beauty to charm, 
the oppressor ; 640 

But all perished alike beneath the scourge of his 
anger ; — 

Only, alas ! the poor, who had neither friends nor 
attendants. 

Crept away to die in the almshouse, home of the 
homeless. 

Then in the suburbs it stood, in the midst of mead- 
ows and woodlands ; — 

Now the city surrounds it ; but still, with its gateway 
and wicket - 645 

Meek, in the midst of splendor, its humble walls 
seemed to echo 

Softly the words of the Lord : ^^ The poor ye always 
have with you.'' 

Thither, by night and by day, came the Sister of 
Mercy. The dying 

Looked up into her face, and thought, indeed, to behold 
there 

Gleams of celestial light encircle her forehead with 
splendor, 650 

Such as the artist paints o'er the brows of saints 
and apostles, 

Or such as hangs by night o'er a city seen at a dis- 
tance. 

Unto their eyes it seemed the lamps of the city celestial. 

Into whose shining gates erelong their spirits would 
enter. 



106 EVANGELINE 



Thus, on a Sabbath morn, through the streets, de- 
serted and silent, ess 

Wending her quiet way, she entered the door of the 
almshouse. 

Sweet on the summer air was the odor of flowers 
in the garden ; 

And she paused on her way to gather the fairest 
amoiig them. 

That the dying once more might rejoice in their fra- 
grance and beauty. 

Then, as she mounted the stairs to the corridors, cooled 
by the east-wind, eeo 

Distant and soft on her ear fell the chimes from the 
belfry of Christ Church, 

While, intermingled with these, across the meadows 
were wafted 

Sounds of psalms, that were sung by the Swedes in 
their church at Wicaco. 

Soft as descending wings fell the calm of the hour 
on her spirit : 

Something within her said, ^^At length thy trials are 
ended ; '^ ees 

And, with light in her looks, she entered the chambers 
of sickness. 

ISToiselessly moved about the assiduous, careful attend- 
ants. 

Moistening the feverish lip, and the aching brow, and 
in silence 



A TALE OF AC ABIE, 107 

Closing the sightless eyes of the dead, and concealing 

their faces, 
Where on their pallets they lay, like drifts of snow 

by the roadside. 670 

Many a languid head, upraised as Evangeline entered, 
Turned on its pillow of pain to gaze while she passed, 

for her presence 
Fell on their hearts like a ray of the sun on the walls 

of a prison. 
And, as she looked around, she saw how Death, the 

consoler, 
Laying his hand upon many a heart, had healed it 

forever. 675 

Many familiar forms had disappeared in the night 

time ; 
Vacant their places were, or filled already by strangers. 

Suddenly, as if arrested by fear or a feeling of 
wonder. 

Still she stood, with her colorless lips apart, while 
a shudder 

Ean through her frame, and, forgotten, the flowerets 
dropped from her fingers, 680 

And from her eyes and cheeks the light and bloom 
of the morning. 

Then there escaped from her lips a cry of such terri- 
ble anguish. 

That the dying heard it, and started up from their 
pillows. 



108 EVANGELINE: 

On the pallet before her was stretched the form of 

an old man. 
Longj and thin, and gray were the locks that shaded 

his temples ; 685 

But, as he lay in the morning light, his face for a 

moment 
Seemed to assume once more the forms of its earlier 

manhood ; 
So are wont to be changed the faces of those who 

are dying. 
Hot and red on his lips still burned the flush of the fever, 
As if life, like the Hebrew, with blood had besprinkled 

its portals, 69o 

That the Angel of Death might see the sign, and 

pass over. 
Motionless, senseless, dying, he lay, and his spirit 

exhausted 
Seemed to be sinking down through infinite depths 

in the darkness. 
Darkness of slumber and death, forever sinking and 

sinking. 
Then through those realms of shade, in multiplied 

reverberations, 695 

Heard he that cry of pain, and through the hush 

that succeeded 
Whispered a gentle voice, in accents tender and saint- 
like, 
" Gabriel ! my beloved ! '' and died away into 

silence. 



A TALE OF ACADIE. 109 

Then lie beheld, in a dream, once more the home 

of his childhood ; 
Green Acadian meadows, with sylvan rivers among 

them, 
Village, and mountain, and woodlands ; and, walking 

under their shadow, 700 

As in the days of her youth, Evangeline rose in his 

vision. 
Tears came into his eyes ; and as slowly he lifted 

his eyelids. 
Vanished the vision away, but Evangeline knelt by 

his bedside. 
Vainly he strove to whisper her name, for the accents 

unuttered 
Died on his lips, and their motion revealed what his 

tongue would have spoken. 705 

Vainly he strove to rise ; and Evangeline, kneeling 

beside him. 
Kissed his dying lips, and laid his head on her bosom. 
Sweet was the light of his eyes; but it suddenly sank 

into darkness, 
As when a lamp is blown out by a gust of wind at 

a casement. 

All was ended now, the hope, and the fear, and 

the sorrow, 710 

All the aching of heart, the restless, unsatisfied longing. 

All the dull, deep pain, and constant anguish of 

patience ! 



110 EVANGELINE: 

And, as she pressed once more the lifeless head to 

her bosom, 
Meekly she bowed her own, and murmured, ^' Father, 

I thank thee ! " 



Still stands the forest primeval ; but far away from 
its shadow. 

Side by side, in their nameless graves, the lovers are 
sleeping. 

Under the humble walls of the little Catholic church- 
yard. 

In the heart of the city, they lie, unknown and un- 
noticed. 

Daily the tides of life go ebbing and flowing beside 
them, 5 

Thousands of throbbing hearts, where theirs are at 
rest and forever. 

Thousands of aching brains, where theirs no longer 
are busy. 

Thousands of toiling hands, where theirs have ceased 
from their labors. 

Thousands of weary feet, where theirs have completed 
their journey ! 

Still stands the forest primeval ; but under the shade 
of its branches lo 



A TALE OF AC ABIE. Ill 

Dwells another race, with other customs and language. 

Only along the shore of the mournful and misty 
Atlantic 

Linger a few Acadian peasants, whose fathers from 
exile 

Wandered back to their native land to die in its bosom. 

In the fisherman's cot the wheel and the loom are still 
busy ; 15 

Maidens still wear their Norman caps and their kirtles 
of homespun, 

And by the evening fire repeat Evangeline's story. 

While from its rocky caverns the deep-voiced, neighbor- 
ing ocean 

Speaks, and in accents disconsolate answers the wail 
of the forest. 



LITERARY ESTIMATES OF THE POET. 



LOKG-FELLOW'S GOLDEN LEGEND. 

BlacTcwood^s Magazine, February, 1852. 

"No man can read six pages of The Golden Legend^ without 
being reminded of the Faust, and that so strongly that there is 
a perpetual challenge of comparison. So long as the popularity 
of the elder poem continues, the later one must suffer in con- 
sequence. 

*' Whether Mr. Longfellow could have avoided this, is quite 
another question. We confess that we entertain very great 
doubts as to that point. In respect of melody, feeling, pathos, 
and that exquisite simplicity of expression which is the criterion 
of a genuine poet, Mr. Longfellow need not shun comparison 
with any living writer. He is not only by nature a j^oet, but he 
has cultivated his poetical powers to the utmost. No man, we 
really believe, has bestowed more pains upon poetry than he has. 
He has studied rhythm most thoroughly; he has subjected the 
most beautiful strains of the masters of verbal melody, in many 
languages, to a minute and careful analysis; he has arrived at 
his poetical theories by dint of long and thoughtful investiga- 
tion ; and yet, exquisite as the product is which he has now given 
us, there is a large portion of it which we cannot style as truly 
original.'* 

112 



LITERARY ESTIMATES OF THE POET. 113 

AMERICAN LITERATURE. 

Charles F. Richardson. 

" The chief value of Evangeline as a metrical experiment was 
limited, but great: it proved that English hexameters were best 
fitted for idyllic, rather than Homeric, narrative." 

" But Longfellow's best hexameters, in Evangeline, though 
representing neither the force nor the flexibility of the Greek 
measure of the same name, had a genuine musical beauty of 
their own." 



ESSAYS AST) REVIEWS. 
Edwin P. Whipple. 

'*His [Longfellow's] sense of beauty, though uncommonly 
vivid, is not the highest of which the mind is capable. He 
has little conception of its mysterious spirit ; — of that Beauty, 
of which all physical loveliness is but the shadow, which awes 
and thrills the soul into which it enters, and lifts the imagina- 
tion into regions ' to which the heaven of heavens is but a veil.' 
His mind never appears oppressed, nor his sight dimmed, by its 
exceeding glory. He feels, and loves, and creates, what is beau- 
tiful ; but he hymns no reverence, he pays no adoration, to 
the Spirit of Beauty. He would never exclaim with Shelley, 
* O awful Loveliness ! ' " 

*' The sympathies which Longfellow addresses are fine and 
poetical, but not the most subtle of which the soul is capable. 
The kindly affections, the moral sentiments, the joys, sorrows, 
regrets, aspirations, loves, and wishes of the heart, he has con- 
secrated by new ideal forms and ascriptions." 



114 EVANGELINE. 



DEVELOPMENT OF ENGLISH LITERATURE AND 
LANGUAGE. 

Welsh. 

*' In extent of popularity, the central figure in American 
poetry. In respect of airy grace, elegance, melody, pathos, 
naturalness, he stands unsurpassed, if not unequalled, among 
the poets of the age. In scholarship, in polite culture, he 
must be classed among the learned; yet he has not the strong 
pinion to dive into the abyss of thought, or soar into the em- 
pyrean of speculation. He does not approach the concentra- 
tion and intensity of the grand masters, nor their dramatic 
movement and variety. He is not the bard of passion, as 
Byron; nor of ideality, as Shelley; nor of high contemplation, 
as Wordsworth; but of daily life, familiar experience, domestic 
affection." 

'' Like Hawthorne, but without his intense imagination, he 
had a genuine fondness for the mellow, the distant, the old. 
His poems indicate the region of his habitual thought, — the 
legendary of the Old World or the New. The man is more 
than his work." 



NOTES 



PROLOGUE. 

There is a fine, emotional quality in the prologue. It suggests 
the preludes of Sir ^Valter Scott to the cantos of The Lay of the Last 
Minstrel; it has not, however, the personal quality well suited, in- 
deed, to introduce ''customs and manners anciently prevailing on 
the Borders." The lay gives a bardic feudal picture to which its 
octo-syllabic measure is admirably adapted. The Evangeline prologue 
invests the primeval Acadian forest with a grand but idyllic dignity, 
while the stately hexameters in which the poem is written lend a 
kind of Homeric charm to the theme announced in the first two lines 
of the last of the three stanzas of uneven length : — 

" Ye who believe in affection that hopes, and endures, and is patient, 
Ye who believe in the beauty and strength of woman's devotion.'* 

Acadia. This term originally embraced all the land between the 
sites of Philadelphia and Montreal; afterwards it was limited to 
New Brunswick and the adjacent islands ; now it is a synonym for 
Nova Scotia. 

Druids. Priests of Ancient Gaul and Britain. 

Eld. An archaic term used in poetry. Druids of eld = Druids 
of old. 

Hexameter verse consists of six feet which may be either dactyls 
or spondees. The dactyl consists of one accented and two unac- 
cented syllables. The spondee has two accented syllables. A tro- 
chee may take the place of a spondee. A trochee consists of an 
accented and an unaccented syllable, as curfew. Accented and 
unaccented syllables in English are the corresponding terms for long 
and short syllables in Greek and Latin. Hexameter, whether classi- 

115 



116 EVANGELINE. 

cal or English, employs the dactyl as the unit of rhythm ; in this 
verse, the fifth foot is usually a dactyl, the sixth, a spondee or trochee. 
English hexameter is easy to write poorly, and difficult to write 
with the sonorous, measured rhythm of the classical hexameter. 
This is because the English language has few syllables of even quan- 
tity which can be used contiguously. It is, therefore, in the use of 
the spondee, that English hexameter is conspicuously weak. As an 
example of a spondaic line which is particularly fine, notice the 
fourth verse of the first stanza of the prelude : — 

Stand like | harpers | hoar, with | beards that | rest on their | bosoms. 

Let the student, as an exercise, notice how often, in a single canto, 
the dactyl falls in the fifth foot. A canto of a poem is like a chapter 
in prose. A canto is a group of stanzas ; a chapter is a group of 
paragraphs. Each serves to develop one scene or a series of allied 
thoughts and situations. The cantos in Evangeline are indicated by 
Roman numerals. 

Longfellow was much criticised for writing Evangeline in hexa- 
meters. Oliver Wendell Holmes approved of the metre. The poem 
was published on Oct. 30, 1847. 

Judging from the prologue, what was the poet's favorite rhetorical 
figure ? Mention a Roman and an Elizabethan poet who freely em- 
ployed the same figure. 

PART THE FIRST. 



The first stanza of Part the First is devoted to a description of 
Grand-Pre, its environment and its inhabitants. The theme, Evan- 
geline, is introduced in the second stanza. 

Grand-Pre = great meadow. 

Basin of Minas. " A remarkable body of water in Nova Scotia, 
the east arm of the Bay of Fundy, penetrating sixty miles inland." 
" The tides here rush in with great impetuosity and form what is 
called the bore. At the equinoxes they have been known to rise 
from sixty to seventy feet." The editor found it deeply interesting 
to watch steamboats unload at the little towns on the Basin of Minas. 
Although many hands made light work, and freight was landed with 



NOTES. 117 

great dexterity and quickness, the tide rose so rapidly that the slop- 
ing stationary bridges built to accommodate the water at all heights 
were buried many feet in the few minutes spent at each stopping- 
place. For an interesting episode descriptive of the tide on the 
Basin, read I. Zangwill's The Master. 

10. Blomidon. One of the Cobequid range which runs through 
the interior of Nova Scotia. 

15. Reign of the Henries ; i.e., in the Sixteenth Century. 

20. Kirtles. A garment, whether short or long, with a skirt. — 
Standard Dictionary. 

21. Distaffs. See Europe in the Nineteenth Century, Chap, 
xxviii., *' Progress of the World " (Judson). 

23. Whir of the wheels. For a clear and concise account of 
alliteration, both as rhyme and as regards its history, read English 
Versification, Chap. vii. (Parsons). 

30. Angelus. A devotion commemorating the Annunciation. 
A bell rung as in Roman Catholic custom, at morning, noon, and 
night, as a call to recite the angelus, or to give notice of the hour 
when it is recited. — Standard Dictionary. 

34. Let class begin with verse 34 and read aloud to end of stanza. 
Notice csesural pause of verse 34. Notice how accent is thrust on 
locks in line 36. But their dwellings, etc., is an example of how 
easily hexameter may degenerate into prose. For explanation of 
csesural pause, see English Versification, page 71. 

43. Stalworth. [Archaic] Stalwart. 

What beautiful metaphor in second stanza describes Benedict 
Belief ontaine ? 

53. Hyssop. 1. A bushy herb of the mint family. 2. An un- 
identified plant furnishing the twigs used in the Mosaic purificatory 
and sacrificial rites, etc. ; thought by some to have been a species of 
marjoram. — Standard Dictionary. 

Is hyssop in the text employed literally or figuratively ? 

55. Chaplet. The third part of a rosary; i.e., fifty-five beads. 

55. Missal. A mass-book. 

56. Norman cap. In color, white ; in shape, with a high point 
above the face. 

What verse, beautiful in sound and sense, in stanza second, sug- 
gests harmony between Evangeline's character and appearance ? 



118 EVANGELINE, 

64. Did tlie hill command the open sea ? 

65. Sycamore. The buttonwood. 

68. Penthouse. Shield projecting above a window or door to 
protect from the weather. 

74. Wains. [Archaic] Wagons. 

74. Antique ploughs. The plough is of great antiquity. It is 
mentioned in Hesiod's Works and Days. 

"What verse in the third stanza is prophetic of coming disaster ? 

In stanza fourth Basil the blacksmith is drawn with the same 
tenderness with which the poet portrays " The Village Blacksmith " 
in the poem bearing that title. 

Has the blacksmith classic celebrity ? 

103. Plain-song. *' A name given to the ecclesiastical chant by 
the Church of Rome. It is an extremely simple melody, admitting 
only notes of equal value, rarely extending beyond the compass of an 
octave, and never exceeding nine notes, the staif on which the notes 
are placed consisting of only four lines. ... St. Ambrose is consid- 
ered to have been the inventor or systematiser of plainsong." — 
Chamhers^s Encydopsedia. 
114. Who were " nuns " ? — the children or the sparks ? 
120. Stone in the nest of the swallow. A pebble anciently sup- 
posed to be brought from the seashore by swallows, and fed to their 
young to make them see. — Standard Dictionary. 
122. What god in Greek mythology is suggested by this line ? 
125. Saint Eulalie. A saint of the Roman Church, born in Spain 
in 290. Both Merida and Barcelona claim her relics. History would 
indicate, that she was pugnacious. Of pugnacity, Longfellow probably 
did not think. His poetic ear was doubtless set to vibrating with the 
music of the saint's name. 
128. How many spondees are there in this line ? 

Notice the poetic beauty of the names thus far introduced. Pupils 
should pronounce in succession, Benedict Bellefontaine, Gabriel La- 
jeunesse. Father Felician, Evangeline, Saint Eulalie; they should 
count the vowels and liquids in each of these names. 

What great modern French writer made sound as indicative of 
sense a life-long study ? Mention his two greatest novels ? Which 
of these was represented by a celebrated painting in the French de- 
partment at the World's Fair ? 



NOTES. 119 

"What is the name of a modern school of French writers who pay 
great attention to the sound of words as indicative of meaning ? 

n. 

130. And the retreating sun the sign of the Scorpion enters. 

See Chambers's Encyclopsedia on Zodiac. See also Encyclopaedia 
Britannica. The Zodiac is ''an imaginary zone of the heavens, 
within which lie the paths of the sun, moon, and principal planets." 
'*It is divided into twelve signs, and marked hy twelve constella- 
tions." These signs are Aries, Taurus, Gemini, Cancer, Leo, Virgo, 
Libra, Scorpio, Sagittarius, Capricornus, Aquarius, and Pisces. *' The 
definitive decline of the sun's power after the autumnal equinox was 
typified by placing a scorpion as the symbol of darkness in the eighth 
sign." 

134. Notice the beauty of the simile. 

140. Summer of All-Saints. Indian summer. Notice how per- 
fect the description of this season is in lines 140-151 inclusive. The 
repose of Indian summer is so happily suggested by lines 143-148. 

151. Plane-tree. A species of sycamore. The Oriental plane- 
tree "was much admired, and planted both by the Greeks and 
Romans as an ornamental tree — no other tree, indeed, commanding 
equal admiration ; and for centuries the youth of Greece assembled 
under the shade of planes, in the groves of Academus and elsewhere, 
to receive lessons in philosophy." 

The Oriental plane-tree grows as far East as Cashmere. *'In 
those situations which are ^ favorable to its growth, huge branches 
spread out in all directions from the massive trunk, invested with 
broad, deeply divided, and glossy green leaves. This body of rich 
foliage, joined to the smoothness of the stem and the symmetry of 
the general growth, renders the plane-tree one of the noblest objects 
in the vegetable kingdom. It has now, and had also of old, the repu- 
tation of being the tree which most effectually excludes the sun's 
beams in summer, and most readily admits them in winter, thus 
affording the best shelter for the extren^es of both seasons. For this 
reason it was planted near public buildings and palaces, a practice 
which the Greeks and Romans adopted ; and the former delighted to 
adorn with it their academic walls and places of public exercise. In 
the East, the plane seems to have been considered sacred, as the oak 



120 EVANGELINE, 

was formerly in Britain. This distinction is in most countries awarded 
to the most magnificent species of tree which it produces. ... In the 
celebrated story of Xerxes arresting the march of his grand army 
before a noble plane-tree in Lydia, that he might render honor to it, 
and adorn its boughs with golden chains, bracelets, and other rich 
ornaments, the action was misunderstood, and egregiously misre- 
presented by -/Elian (Var. Hist. II., 14)." — Biblical Cyclopaedia 
(McClintock and Strong). 

153. Day -with its burden and heat had departed, etc. ; i.e., 
the summer had departed. 

154. Brought back the evening star, etc. What would the 
evening star be in autumn in Nova Scotia ? 

157. Foremost, bearing the beU, Evangeline's beautiful 
heifer, etc. Compare this description of the heifer with descriptions 
of the doe in AYordsworth's The White Doe of Rylstone. 

169. Fetlocks. The projection of a horse's foot above the hoof; 
also the tuft of hair on this projection. 

190. Where was Normandy ? 

190. Where was Burgundy ? 

What great Norman is identified with the year 1066 in English 
history ? What great Duke of Burgundy was the contemporary of 
Louis XI. of France ? 

192. Spinning flax for the loom. Representations of the 
spindle and distaff are to be seen on ancient Egyptian monuments. 

The simile in 196, 197, and 198 is far-fetched. Longfellow's use of 
the simile was excessive. 

204. Settle. A long seat with an upright back and arms. It is 
made of wood and is sometimes cushioned. 

219. Gaspereau. A river of New Brunswick. In the treaty by 
which the French, in 1713, ceded Acadia to England, the limits of 
tire territory thus named were not defined. 

' ' The English claimed that Acadia ought to comprise all New 
Brunswick, besides the peninsula." — Edouard Richard. 

230. LiOuisburg. When England and France were at war at 
intervals between 1689 and 1763, the colonists also took part. The 
first of the three intercolonial wars was ''King William's," 1689- 
1697; the second was ''Queen Anne's," 1702-1713; the third was 
"King George's," 1744-1748. In King George's war, the French lost 



NOTES. 121 

Louisburg on the island of Cape Breton. Louisburg at that time 
was called ''the Gibraltar of America." 

230. Beau Sejour. See Parkman's history, The Pioneers of 
France in the New World. ''Beausejour, Gaspereau, Grand-Pre, 
Beaubassin, Port Royal, sweet-sounding names, so full of memories, 
so familiar a hundred and fifty years ago, exist no longer except for 
lovers of history and antiquarians. Patient research is needed to 
find the spot where stood the village of Grand-Pre." — Acadia 
(Edouard Richard). 

The hamlet of Gaspereaux is at the junction of the Gaspereaux 
and Salmon rivers. 

230. Port Royal. For a graphic account of the founding, settle- 
ment, and loss of Port Royal, see Parkman's history. Port Royal was 
founded by Champlain and De Monts in 1605, in what is now Nova 
Scotia. The French lost Port Royal "in King William's war. After 
the burning of Schenectady by the French and Indians, the English 
colonists, in retaliation, organized a successful expedition against 
Port Royal. 

242. Strongly have built them and well ; and, breaking the 
glebe round about them. Let class analyze grammatical construc- 
tion of second clause. 

242. Glebe. Soil. In English history, church property in land 
is sometimes mentioned as glebe land. See use of this term in The 
Nineteenth Century (Mackenzie). 

244. Inkhorn. A receptacle for ink and made of horn ; carried 
on the person. 

247. Blushing Evangeline heard the words that her father 
had spoken. Is the comma at the end of this verse a better mark 
of punctuation than a semicolon would be ? 

III. 

251. Maize. Indian corn. It is the most highly productive cereal 
known. It is an annual, and matures quickly. It thrives wherever 
the summer heat is intense. It grows in all parts of the United 
States, and in sheltered portions of Canada. The lands on the east- 
em shores of the Basin of Minas are among the most fertile and 
sunny in British America. 

252. Glasses with horn bows. Spectacles, discovered in the 



122 EVANGELINE, 

thirteenth century, were framed in horn or tortoise-shell till the 
beginning of the nineteenth century. Glasses with the horn or shell 
frame are now called goggles. 

253. Supernal. " Of or pertaining to things above this world." 

255. The rhythm in this verse is faulty. 

258. What does this verse mean ? 

259. Paraphrase this verse in order to show the full force of hut. 
With what verse does the action in this canto (III.) begin? 

261. Loup-garou. Wehr-wolf; i. e., a ghost- wolf ,— a wolf in 
human form. 

275-276. . . . Evil intention 

Brings them here, for we are at peace ; and why then molest 
us? 

During the French and Indian war, 1754-1763, the English be- 
came masters of the entire country east of the Penobscot. This 
tract included Acadia, which, however, had been previously ceded 
by the treaty of Utrecht. 

Students interested in Acadia should read Parkman's version of 
their exile in Harper's Magazine^ November, 1884. Parkman justi- 
fies their deportation. The opposite view is taken by Edouard 
Richard in his interesting work, Acadia. See vol. i., chap. iv. 

The story of Evangeline was one of the traditions current among 
the Acadians after their dispersion. 

The Acadians sailed away from Grand-Pre on Oct. 29, 1755. 
Edouard Richard says: " All that vast bay, around which but lately 
an industrious people worked like a swarm of bees, was now deserted. 
In the silent villages, where the doors swung idly in the wind, noth- 
ing was heard but the tramp of soldiery and the lowing of cattle, 
wandering anxiously around the stables as if looking for their mas- 
ters. . . . The total amount of live-stock owned by the Acadians 
at the time of the deportation has been variously estimated by dif- 
ferent historians, or to speak more correctly, very few have paid any 
attention to this subject. . . . Rameau, who has made a much 
deeper study than any other historian of the Acadians, sets the total 
at 130,000, comprising horned cattle, horses, sheep, and pigs." 

Edouard Richard quotes the following from two contemporaries 
of the exiled Acadians: '* The Acadians were the most innocent and 
virtuous people I have ever known or read of in any history. They 



NOTES. 123 

lived in a state of perfect equality, without distinction of rank in 
society. The title of ' Mister ' was unknown among them. Know- 
ing nothing of luxury, or even the conveniences of life, they were 
content with a simple manner of living, which they easily compassed 
by the tillage of their lands. Very little ambition or avarice was to 
be seen among them ; they anticipated each other's wants with kindly 
liberality; they demanded no interest for loans of money or other 
property. They were humane and hospitable to strangers, and very 
liberal toward those who embraced their religion. They were very 
remarkable for their inviolable purity of morals. ... If any dis- 
putes arose in their transactions, they always submitted to the de- 
cision of an arbitrator, and their final appeal was to their priests." — 
Moses de les Derniers. 

** Young men were not encouraged to marry unless the young girl 
could weave a piece of cloth, and the young man make a pair of 
wheels. These accomplishments were deemed essential for their 
marriage settlement, and they hardly needed anything else ; for every 
time there was a wedding the whole village contributed to set up the 
newly married couple. They built a house for them, and cleared 
enough land for their immediate needs ; they gave them- live-stock 
and poultry ; and nature, seconded by their own labor, soon put them 
in a position to help others." — Brook Watson. 

296. That a necklace of pearls was lost, etc. Is that necessary 
to the sense ? If not, why has the poet used it? Is the verse more or 
less rhythmical without the conjunction? See English Versification^ 
page 9 (Parsons). 

308, 309. The simile in these verses conveys a vivid picture of 
how physical age may intensify expression. 

311. Tankard. A large drinking-cup, sometimes with a cover. 
— Standard Dictionary . 

325. "What was the game? 

The metaphors in 331 and 332 are among the loveliest in the whole 
range of Longfellow's poetry. 

334. CurfeTv. Bell rung for the extinguishing of fires and lights. 
Supposed to have been introduced by William the Conqueror. 

338. Before the time of matches, fires were carefully preserved 
in this way till morning. If it happened that, notwithstanding the 
precaution taken, the fire went out, another could be lighted only 



124 EVANGELINE. 

by a spark struck from the friction of flint with steel, or by hot coals 
fetched from a neighbor's. 

Does verse 315 contradict verse 847 ? 

The custom of marriage dower is an ancient one. It existed long 
before the time of Solon. Among the Greeks, the dowery was settled 
upon the bride at the time of betrothal. Solon introduced a law to 
restrict the amount of a bride's dower. Plutarch gave as a reason for 
this law the danger the husband might suffer from loss of indepen- 
dence if his wife's dowery were too large. For these and further 
details on this interesting subject see Becker's Charicles. 

Dante, in enumerating the sins of Florence in the Divine Comedy^ 
says that her dowerless daughters remain unmarried. 

350, 351. " On the days after new and full moon, the range of tide 
is as its maximum, and on the day after the first and third quarter 
at its minimum." — G. H. Darwin, University of Cambridge. 

Verses 356, 357, and 358 show the impressionability of sensitive 
youth to every passing influence. 

Verse 361 subtly prefigures the future, perpetual exile of Evan- 
geline. 

Does it not seem in the first stanza of IV. as though the people 
were met together to discuss the English ships at anchor ? This is 
one of $he rare instances of ambiguity in order of thought of the poet, 
for among Longfellow's charms is clearness. The feast of be- 
trothal, in the second stanza, removes, of course, from the reader's 
mind all possible doubt. 

Verse 366 is finely expressive. Compare it with some of the more 
vigorous ones in The Building of the Ship. 

368. Came in their holiday dresses the blithe Acadian peas- 
ants. Notice in Longfellow's translation of Dante's Paradise, Canto 
II., 26, 27, 28, the use of this word as descriptive of Beatrice. 

" And the milkmaid singeth blithe.'' 

U Allegro: Milton. 

369. Jocund. 

*' And fhe jocund rebecks sound." 

V Allegro: MiLTON. 

385. Porch. For nearness of the porch to the orchard see lines 
66,67. 

386, In what respect does this verse resemble Homer ? 



NOTES. 125 

391. Glowed like a living coal when the ashes are blown 
from the embers. The fiddler's aged face glowed with the fire and 
animation of youth. 

*' Amid the strings his fingers strayed, 
And an uncertain warbling made, 
And oft he shook his hoary head. 
But when he caught the measure wild, 
The old man raised his face, and smiled ; 
And lighten'd up his faded eye. 
With all a poet's ecstasy ! " 

Lay of the Last Minstrel: Scott. 

393. Tous les Bourgeois de Chartres. The citizens of Chartres. 
Le Carillon de Dunquerque. The chimes of Dunquerque. 

394. Anon. Presently; soon. 

One appreciates the poet's art in gathering the people for the 
betrothal, in order to have them on the scene as well for the king's 
message. Harmony, repose, pathos, compose the spirit of the poem. 
Its gentle tenor is,not disturbed even by the bell and drum beat. 

422. Solstice of summer. The 21st of June. 

422-430 inclusive is a good illustration of a Virgilian simile. 

In Colonial times, the church or meeting-house was used for all 
the public purposes of a community, as well as for religious services. 
There trials took place, and gatherings of the people for defence or 
counsel. 

446. Tocsin's alarum. A signal sounded on a bell. In former 
usage, a drum used to sound a charge. — Standard Dictionary . 

447, etc. The appeal of Father Felician transports us in feeling 
to the millennium, or backward to the Golden Age. Acadie becomes 
indeed Arcadia. But strength of judgment and sternness also are in 
the verse : — 

" Let us repeat that prayer in the hour when the wicked assail us." 
Notice the musical arrangement of dactyls and trochees in verse 452. 
472. Emblazoned its windows. To set off with glowing colors. 
To adorn with heraldic designs. Emblazonry is the collective term 
for heraldic devices. Heraldic terms are so often employed figura- 
tively, as in the text of Evangeline, that the editor thinks it may be 
interesting and useful to both teachers and students to append a few 



126 EVANGELINE. 

extracts from the valuable article on heraldry in the Encyclopaedia 
Britannica : — 

"'Arms,' or 'armories,' so called because originally displayed 
upon defensive armour, and ' coats of arms ' because formerly em- 
broidered upon the surcoat or camise worn over the armour, are 
supposed to have been first used at the great German tournaments, 
and to have reached England, though to a very moderate extent, in 
the time of Henry II. and Cceur de Lion. To ' blazon,' now meaning 
to describe a coat of arms, is the German 'blasen,' to blow as with 
the horn, because the style and arms of each knight were so pro- 
claimed on public occasions. The terms employed in heraldry are, 
however, mostly French, or of French origin. Though now matters 
of form and ceremonial, and subject to the smile which attaches to 
such in a utilitarian age, armorial bearings were once of real use and 
Importance, and so continued as long as knights were cased in plate, 
and their features thus concealed. At that time leaders were recog- 
nized in the field by their insignia alone, and these — both figures 
and colors — because identified with their fame, from personal became 
hereditary, were subject to certain rules of descent, and to the laws 
of property and the less certain rules of honour. ... 

"The best, if not the only absolutely safe evidence for the origin 
of armorial bearings, is that afforded by seals. Seals were in common 
use both before and after the introduction of armorial bearings, and 
they are not so likely as rolls of arms or monumental effigies to be 
the work of a later age. . . . 

" It is uncertain at what period armorial bearings found their way 
into England. The Conqueror and his successors certainly did not 
use them ; they do not appear upon their seals, nor are they shown 
upon the banners of the Bayeux tapestry. The monk of Marmontier, 
probably a contemporary, describes Henry I., upon the marriage of 
his daughter to Geoffrey of Anjou in 1122, as hanging about the bride- 
groom's neck a shield adorned with small golden lions, ' leonculos 
aureos ; ' and, making mention of a combat in which Geoffrey was 
engaged, he describes him as ' pictos leones praeferens in clypeo.' It 
is true that the number, attitude, and position of these lions on the 
shield are not specified ; but considering that not long afterwards two 
lions became the arms of Plantagenet, and so of England, this may 
fairly be taken as their introduction." 



NOTES. 127 

" Coats of arms were not at first strictly hereditary, nor even 
always permanent in the same person." 

" Early bearings were usually very simple, the colors in strong 
contrast, and their form and outline such as could readily be distin- 
guished even in the dust and confusion of a battle. They are mostly 
composed of right-lined figures, known in heraldry as ordinaries. The 
favorite beast is the lion." 

" The earliest and most valuable records relating to English armo- 
rial bearings are undoubtedly the rolls of arms of the reigns of Henry 
III, and the first three Edwards." 

" The colours in heraldry are : — 

AzuEE, Blue, asur. Sapphire, Jupiter. 

Gules (rose), Red, gueules. Ruby, Mars. 

PURPURE, Furple, pourp re. Amethyst, Mercury. 

Sable, Black, sable. Diamond, Saturn. 

Yert (green), Green, sinople. Emerald, Venus." 

"The blazoning by precious stones and planets, and even by the 
virtues, was a foolish fancy of the heraldic writers of the sixteenth 
century, and applied to the arms of peers and princes." 

Some shields were covered with fur, others with metal, but within 
certain limits as to color. 

478. Ambrosial. From ambrosia, the food of the gods (Greek) ; 
heavenly, fragrant, delicious. 

" But when, at length, Jove set before them all things agreeable, 
to wit, nectar and ambrosia, on which the gods themselves feed, a 
noble spirit grew in the breasts of all." — The Theogony : Hesiod. 

" The goddess, speaking thus, before him placed 

A table, where the heaped ambrosia lay. 

And mingled the red nectar. Ate and drank 

The herald Argus-queller, and, refreshed. 

Answered the nymph," etc. 

The Odyssey, Book V. 

Ambrosia *' was brought by doves to Jupiter, and was occasionally 
bestowed upon such human beings as were the peculiar favorites of 
the gods. Ambrosia was also used as a fragrant salve, which the 
goddesses employed to heighten their beauty; with which Jupiter 
himself anointed his locks ; and which had the property of preserv- 
ing bodies from corruption." — Chambers's Encyclopsedia. 



128 EVANGELINE. 

481. This verse unites the motive of Evangeline's nature to that 
of Father Felician. 

487. Notice the deep religiousness of this simile. Its force is 
increased when one remembers that the sun was an object of worship 
among the most ancient Greeks under the name Helios, that it was 
the emblem of the Egyptian god Osiris, and that it still symbolizes 
to the Parsees the god of light — the good — Ahura-Mazda. 

497-500. Notice the cacaphony of these verses. 

It would be well to read aloud the last stanza of IV. to better 
appreciate its beautiful rhythmical qualities. 

V. 

555, 556. Is there a repetition of thought in refluent and fled 
away? 

557. Waifs of the tide. Waifs may signify anything carried by 
the wind or by the tides of the ocean ; flotsam. Are kelp and sea- 
weed synonyms ? 

558-561. What is the rhetorical name of the sentence contained 
in these verses ? 

559. Define leaguer. 

562-564. These verses suggest the ^neid. 

577. Like unto shipwrecked Paul on Melita's desolate sea- 
shore. "And when they escaped, then they knew that the island 
was called Melita. And the barbarous people shewed us no little 
kindness : for they kindled a fire, and received us every one, because 
of the present rain, and because of the cold." — Acts xxviii., 1, 2. 

577. Melita. " An island in the Mediterranean, on which the 
ship which was carrying the apostle Paul as a prisoner to Rome was 
wrecked." "Melita was the ancient name of Malta, and also of a 
small island in the Adriatic, now called Meleda." " Each of these 
has found warm advocates for its identification with the Melita of 
Scripture." — Biblical Cyclopsedia: McClintock and Strong. 

586-588. What word is ungrammatically used in this sentence? 
Is the sequence of tenses correct ? 

592. What book of the Old Testament and what character in 
that book had Longfellow probably in mind ? 

593-596. Is it the moon or the light which Titan-like stretches 
its hundred hands? 



NOTES, 129 

"But again, from Earth and Heaven sprung three other sons, 
great and mighty, scarce to he mentioned, Cottus and Briareus and 
Gyas, children exceedingly proud. From the shoulders of these 
moved actively one hundred hands, not brooking approach, and to 
each above sturdy limbs there grew fifty heads from their shoulders." 
— The Theogony, Hesiod. 

598. Roadstead. Places suitable for anchorage off shore, but 
without the shelter of a harbor. 

601. Gleeds. Burning particles. 

638-640. These verses are beautiful hexameters, and most poetic 
in thought. 

Let the student notice how dramatically Longfellow has brought 
the first half of his narration to a close. His arrangement of subject- 
matter is such that Part the Second becomes an obvious and neces- 
sary division. 



PART THE SECOND. 



3. Bearing a nation, with all its household gods, into exile. 

This is Virgilian. Anchises, the father of ^neas, when fleeing from 
Troy, bore in his hands the images of the household gods. 

"There was a story (alluded to in one of the lost tragedies of 
Sophocles, of which we have but a fragment) that on the night of 
the capture of Troy the tutelary deities departed in a body, taking 
their images with them." — Blackwood's Ancient Classics. 

The household gods of the Romans were called Penates; they 
were also named Lares, the two terms being synonymous. Jupiter 
and Juno, as protectors of domestic happiness, were Penates. Who- 
ever left home prayed to the Penates and Lares for a safe return. To 
these household gods both the hearth and table were sacred. 

7. Where are the Banks of Newfoundland? 

9. Savannas. Meadow-lands. 

10. Father of Waters. Mississippi = Missi Sipi = the Great 
Water. 

11. Seizes the hills in his hands, and drags them down to 
the Ocean. "At the mouth of the river a large delta has been 



130 EVANGELINE, 

formed by the mud and detritus carried down by the current. This 
delta is intersected by a number of outlets, or water-courses, called 
bayous, which issue from the Mississippi, or derive from it a supply 
of water in time of a flood. ' The whole area of the delta,' says Dana, 
'is about 12,000 square miles.'" *''The new soil deposited in one 
year by the Mississippi,' says Guyot, 'would cover an area of 
268 square miles with the thickness of one foot.'" — LippincotVs 
Gazetteer. 

14. Is this verse grammatically correct ? 

20. Is this verse a general statement, or does it apply exclusively 
to the Acadians ? 

32. This verse is the subject of a well-known engraving. 

40. Coureurs-des-Bois. Guides. 

45. The accent on the first word of this verse must be vigorous, 
in order to read it smoothly. 

48. St. Catherine. Probably an allusion to the St. Catherine, 
put to death in 307 a.d. by the Emperor Maximinus, after she was 
tortured on a wheel. Hence St. Catherine's wheel. St. Catherine 
is the patron saint of girls' schools. 

51, 52. True philosophy. ^^ 

54-62 inclusive. In this, as in all the scenes between Father 
Felician and Evangeline, there is a oneness of comprehension, grow- 
ing out of the spirituality of their natures. 

67. Shards. [Archaic] 1. A broken piece of a brittle substance. 
2. Any hard, thin covering or organ. Specifically: (1) An egg-shell. 
(2) A wing-cover, as of a beetle. — Standard Dictionary. 

68-75 inclusive. These verses are the key to the' treatment of the 
remainder of the story. I. of Part the Second serves as an introduc- 
tory canto. It is balanced by the three stanzas which precede Part 
the First. 

76. Beautiful River. Signification of Ohio. 

77. Wabash. This river forms the boundary between Illinois 
and Indiana for nearly two hundred miles. It enters the Ohio at the 
south-western extremity of Indiana. 

80. Replace the first word of this verse by another pronoun which 
will render the meaning clearer. 

84. Kith. [Obsolete.] Friends, acquaintance. Used only now 
in the phrase, kith and kin. 



NOTES, 131 

86. Here we have an intimation that those two kindred spirits, 
Father Felician and Evangeline, had never been separated. 

88. Adow^n. Poetical form. As a prefix (a) down has the force 
of from. 

90. Chutes. A narrow channel with a free current, especially 
on the lower Mississippi River. — Standard Dictioiuu^y . 

91. Cotton-trees. A species of poplar, valuable for its timber. 

92. Lagoons. Bodies of shallow water at the mouths of rivers 
or connected with the sea. 

93. The wimpling Avaves. A pretty alliterative picture of the 
calmness of the wash of the waves in a lagoon. Wimple. Ripple. 

94. Pelicans. The common pelican is the size of a swan. Peli- 
cans fly in large flocks. " The sudden swoox3 of a flock of pelicans at 
a shoal of fish is a striking and beautiful sight." 

96. China-tree. A shade tree indigenous to India. 
101. Bayou of Plaqueniine. Part of the delta of the Mississippi. 

103. Netw^ork of steel. What, probably, suggested this figure 
to the poet? 

104. Tenebrous. Shady. This verse is composed entirely of 
dactyls and trochees. 

105. And trailing mosses in mid-air. The long silvery gray 
mosses hanging in lengths of many yards from the live oaks in the 
cemetery of Bonaventura in Savannah, give a peculiarly solemn and 
cathedral-like aspect to the walks and drives under those huge trees. 

107. Herons. The plumage of the heron is beautiful, though 
sober in color. The common heron builds its nest in lofty trees. 
Many varieties of this bird are numerous in the southern parts of 
North America. 

111. Gleamed on the columns of cypress and cedar sustain- 
ing the arches. "The cedar proud and tall." "The cypress 
funereal." — Canto i.. Book I., Fairie Queen. 

Verses 111 and 112 complete the architectural picture of verses 
105 and 106. 

117. 3Iimosa. There are hundreds of species of the mimosa. Sen- 
sitive plants belong to this family. Some of the larger species are 
valuable for their timber, and attain the size of trees. 

122. That is, Evangeline's view, after all, was but a phantom 
vision. The forebodings of her companions were true of their future. 



132 EVANGELINE. 

134. Notice the impressive simile in this verse. 

136. Canadian. Is this word used in its modern geographical 
and political sense? 

138. Desert. Is this word given its exact meaning ? 

142. Atchafalaya. This bayou is an outlet for the Red River, 
and also for the Mississippi. It is navigable by steamboats. It 
empties into the Gulf of Mexico. 

144. The lotus. Here meant for a lily. Lotus is a Greek word, 
and besides applying to the famous Egyptian flower, also means a 
plant bearing a fruit useful for food. 

146. Is this verse a true hexameter ? Is it musical? 

154. Cope. An arching cover. 

141-158. This entire passage, if well read aloud, is euphonious 
and onomatopoetic. It produces the same effect obtained from read- 
ing aloud portions of Thomson's famous allegorical poem. The Castle 
of Indolence; especially those portions describing the ** pleasing 
land of drowsy-head." 

164. Trappers. Those who trap fur-bearing animals or game. 

165. Bison. "' The North American bison has light and slender 
hind quarters and densely shaggy fore parts. Commonly but less 
correctly called buffalo." — Standard Dictionary. 

172. Palmettos. Any palm of the fan-shape. Here it means 
the cabbage-palm of the southern part of the United States. 

177. Tholes. Fulcrums for the oars. 

188. Is as the tossing buoy, that betrays where the anchor 
is hidden. Is this simile forcible? 

191. Teche. Name of a bayou emptying into Atchafalaya bayou. 

The last stanza of II. is exquisite. Notice the harmony of thought 
in the three pictures given: "Sky and water and forest . . . 
melted and mingled together ; " '' the sacred fountains of feel- 
ing ; " " shook from his little throat such floods of delirious 
music." 

213. Bacchantes. Women who assisted in the worship of Bac- 
chus. Their orgies partially consisted in frenzied dances. 

III. 
225. Such as the Druids cut down with golden hatchets at 
Yule-tide. The etymology of the word Druid is uncertain. The 



NOTES. 133 

Druids were the priests of the ancient Kelts. They taught the im- 
mortality of the soul. Among other subjects, they studied astrology 
and theology. Britain was their chief resort. They held the mistle- 
toe in great veneration. The oak was their sacred tree. The mistle- 
toe, though rarely growing on oaks, as it preferred such trees as the 
apple or pear, was, when found on them, revered for its magical qual- 
ities. When discovered on the oak, it was cut with a gold knife, by 
a white-robed priest, and two white bulls were sacrificed at once. 
In Druidic language, mistletoe signified All-Heal. The mistletoe, 
when growing on the oak, "represented man, a creature entirely 
dependent on God for support, and yet with an individual existence 
of his own." 

225. Yule-tide. AS. Geol = December. The feast of mid- 
winter, the Yule, was sacred to Odin. Christmas-time. 

249. Sombrero. A broad-brimmed hat. 

Spain claimed, by right of discovery, a large portion of that part 
of North America included by the Southern States and the Pacific 
coast. It was in these regions the Spaniards made settlements. 
Through Napoleon's victories this section for a brief time became 
a French possession. In 1803, the portion then known as Louisiana, 
covering over a million square miles of land, and the whole length of 
the Mississippi, was purchased by the United States for $15,000,000. 

Compare 260 with 308. 

279. " Be of good cheer, my child ; it is only to-day he de- 
parted." This is the second highly dramatic combination of cir- 
cumstances in the poem. Which was the first ? Notice in the future 
development of the story whether there is an incident much like the 
one in verse 279, and, if so, whether the repetition weakens the 
force. 

288. Ozark Mountains. Hills west of the Mississippi in Arkan- 
sas, Missouri, and the Indian Territory. 

296. Olympus. Mountain in Greece. In Greek mythology, the 
home of the gods. 

302. While Basil, enraptured, hailed, etc. That is, those who 
had accompanied Father Felician and Evangeline, and who were now 
coming up from the boat. Among them were those carrying Michael, 
who had gone down to meet his former companions, and also "the 
mothers and daughters." 



134 EVANGELINE. 

305. Ci-devant. Former. 

319. Natchitoches. A parish of Louisiana intersected by the 
Bed River. 

332. King George of England. George II. Date of reign, 
1727-1760. 

344. It was the neighboring Creoles and small Acadian plant- 
ers. *' Creole (Spanish Criollo) is a term which primarily was used to 
denote an inhabitant of the Spanish colonies who was descended from 
the European settlers, as distinguished from the aborigines, the 
negroes, and mulattoes. It is now more loosely employed, the name 
being frequently applied to a native of the West Indies whose de- 
scent is partly, but not entirely, European. A part of the colored 
l^opulation of Cuba are at times designated Creole negroes, in con- 
tradistinction to those who were brought direct from Africa. The 
Creole whites, owing to the enervating influence of the climate, ar^ 
not a robust race, but exhibit an elegance of gait and a suppleness 
of joint that are rare among Europeans." — Eiicyclopsedia Britain- 
nica. 

360. Heard she the sound of the sea, etc. Interpret this sen- 
tence. 

366-368 inclusive. The personification, metaphor, and simile are 
equally beautiful. These three verses are a fair illustration of the 
statement sometimes made that true poetry is the highest possible 
form of human speech, as in i)oetry the fullest thought can be packed 
into the briefest space. 

379. Upharsin. Divided. Paraphrased, as in the Bible, Dan. 
V. 5-25, it means, "Thy kingdom is divided." 

It would seem as though Longfellow must have used this term 
primarily for its musical sound, and secondarily, with some thought 
of the dispersion of the Acadians, and possibly as prophetic of the 
blight soon to settle on Evangeline's hope and search. 

389. Loud and sudden and near the notes of a whippoorwill 
sounded. According to common superstition, it is a bad omen to 
hear a whippoorwill. To offset this, the i)oet adds the whisper of the 
oaks and the sigh of the meadow, which is a skilful way of express- 
ing Evangeline's pathetic self-encouragement. 

395. Explain the figure. 

396. Explain vases of crystal. 



NOTES, 135 

IV. 

The first stanza of IV. is a general description of the country 
immediately west and east of the Rocky Mountains, and the sections 
south of this region. Its very vagueness, while bearing an air of 
precision, is good art. 

427. Roebuck. "^The male of the roe-deer, a small deer of 
Europe and AYestern Asia." As Longfellow did not visit the scenes 
of Evangeline previously to writing the poem, he doubtless, in this 
instance, furnished the West with an animal suiting his fancy. He 
may have had in mind the Wapiti or American Elk, or the Antelope 
of the Kocky Mountains. 

430. Ishmael's children. Meant here for nomadic Indian tribes. 
Ishmael was the son of Abraham and Hagar. Ishmael was not, as 
has been commonly supposed, the founder of the Arabian nation, for 
the Arabs existed before he was born. On his expulsion by Abra- 
ham, he joined the Arabs, adopting their nomadic habits, and event- 
ually became the father of an important division of that people. 
Hence the term Ishmael has become synonymous with nomadic or 
wandering. 

437. Anchorite monk. The term anchorite means one who has 
withdrawn from society. Anchorite monks were numerous in the 
Eastern church. They chose the wildest and most secluded local- 
ities, and were exceedingly austere in their habits, exposing them- 
selves, scantily clad, to the roughest weather, and living on poor and 
meagre food. 

439. Like the protecting hand of God inverted above them. 
A majestic simile. 

449. Fata 3Iorgana. A mirage peculiar to the Strait of Messina. 

454, 455. The Shawnee Indians are a north-eastern tribe. The 
Camanches belong to the central plains of North America. 

474. And repeated the tale of the Mowis* The legend suggests 
the story of Cupid and Psyche. For a beautiful poetical version of 
the Greek myth see The Earthly Paradise (Morris). 

478-484 inclusive. These verses are as musical as some of Poe's 
famous lines. 

No scene in the whole narrative better fits the ideas of remoteness 
and semi-human possibilities belonging to the aroma of true poetry 
than the one depicted in 472-498. 



136 EVANGELINE, 

510. Saw the tents of the Christians, the tents of the Jesuit 
Mission. In The Jesuits in North America, the historian Park- 
man says, in speaking of Brebenf and his associates : "Their patience, 
their kindness, their intrepidity, their manifest disinterestedness, the 
hlamelessness of their lives, and the tact which, in the utmost fervors 
of their zeal, never failed them, had won the hearts of these way- 
ward savages ; and chiefs of distant villages came to urge that they 
would make their abode with them. As yet, the results of the mis- 
sion had been faint and few ; but the priests toiled on courageously, 
high in hope that an abundant harvest of souls would one day reward 
their labors." This was in 1635. 

517. Notice the alliteration in soft susurrus and sighs. 

524. Hearing, etc. What preposition is understood before hear- 
ing? 

533, 534. Interpret the simile. Compare some of Longfellow's 
best similes and metaphors with those of George Eliot in Silas 
Marner {Students^ Series of English Classics). 

551-561. The gentle didacticism of the priest is so poetically 
expressed that even those critics whose creed is "Art for Art's 
sake " could hardly reject this intrusion, if it indeed be such. 

564. Wold. A tract of slightly hilly country, usually un wooded. 

576. Moravian 3Iissions. The Moravians trace their origin to 
the followers of John Huss. They are Lutherans in their essential 
belief. Almost from the beginning of their history they were mis- 
sionaries. Their first mission was established at St. Thomas, one of 
the West Indies, in 1732. 

580-586. These verses mark the transition to the conclusion of 
the poem. 

Is the beautiful metaphor in 585 weakened by xihe simile in the 
following verse ? 

V. 

592. Dryads. Wood-nymphs. 

611-620 inclusive. Notice that every verse in this passage, which 
is descriptive of Evangeline's love for Gabriel as one lost on earth to 
be found in heaven, begins with a dactyl. It therefore embodies a 
twofold harmony, — the harmony of technique and the harmony of 
one fully developed thought. 



NOTES, 137 

638, 639. Analyze the meaning of these verses. 

674. And, as she looked around, she saw how Death, the 
consoler. ''The Angel of Death is the invisible Angel of Life." — 
Henry Mills Alden. 

676. 3Iany familiar forms had disappeared in the night 
time. One of the harrowing incidents to those who lose their dear 
ones in hospitals is that, when death occurs in the night, the bodies 
are at once removed. 

The climax of the poem is reached in stanza fourth of Canto V. 
Longfellow's warm human sympathies are manifested in this conclu- 
sion ; for Evangeline might have been drawn to a close with the pas- 
sage included in 611-620. 

All that follows after stanza fourth merely serves to relax the ten- 
sion of feeling on the part of the reader. It is like the benediction 
after a sermon which has stirred a soul to the depths. It serves also 
to connect the end with the beginning, and thus complete the Acadian 
frame of a picture in ten cantos. Again, the three final stanzas har- 
monize with the three stanzas of the prologue, but with a reversal of 
arrangement, as befits the need of the poem. 



LITERATURE. 



ENGLISH LITERATURE, 



Of our popular list of classics the editor of the Christian TJmon recently 
said: '* We cannot speak too highly of the Studerrts* Series of English 
Classics ^^'^ There are nearly thirty books now out and in preparation, and 
it is only necessary to read the list of our editors to gain an intelligent idea 
of the character of the work done. We do not add to this series for the 
sake of increasing the list, but we shall make the same careful selection of 
authors that are to come as we have in those announced. Any book 
announced in this series will be worth the attention of an instructor ir> 
English Literature. 



Painter's Introduction to English Literature, includ- 
ing several Classical Works. With Notes. 

By Professor F, V. N. Painter, of Roanoke College, Va. Cloth. 
Pages xviii-{-628. Introduction and mailing price, $1.25. 

Morgan's English and American Literature. 

By Horace H. Morgan, LL.D., formerly of St. Louis High School. 
A practical working text- book for schools and colleges. Pages viii+ 
261. Introduction price, $1.00. 

Introduction to the Study of English Literature. 

In Six Lectures. By Professor George C. S. Southworth. 
Cloth. Pages 194. Introduction price, 75 cents. 

The Students' Series of English Classics. 

PRICES REDUCED. To furnish the educational public with 
well-edited editions of those authors used in, or required for admission 
to, many of the colleges, the Publishers announce this new series. 
The following books are now ready, and others are in preparation. 
They are uniformly bound in cloth, furnished at a comparatively low 
price, and Students of Literature should buy such texts that after use 
in the class room will be found valuable fcr the library. 



LITERATURE, 

Coleridge's A^tcient Mariner , 25 cents 

A Ballad Book 50 

The Merchant of Venice 35 

A Midsummer Night'' s Dream 35 

Edited by Katharine Lee Bates, Wellesley College. 

Matthew Arnold'* s Sohrab and Rustum 25 „ 

Webster^ s First Bunker Hill Oration 25 „ 

Milton'' s L' Allegro, II FenserosOf Co?nus, and Lycidas ... 25 „ 
Edited by Louise Manning Hodgkins, formerly Professor 
of English Literature, Wellesley College. 

Introduction to the Writings of yohn Ruskin 50 „ 

Macaulay^s Essay 07i Lord Clive 35 „ 

Edited by ViDA D. Scudder, Wellesley College. 

George Eliofs Silas Marner 35 „ 

Scott'' s Mar^nion 35 „ 

Edited by Mary Harriott Norris, Professor, New York. 

Sir Roger de Cover ley Papers from The Spectator , . . . 35 ^ 
Edited by A. S. Roe, Worcester, Mass. 

Macaula^s Second Essay on the Earl of Chathain . . . « 35 ^ 
Edited by W. W. Curtis, High School, Pawtucket, R. I. 

yoknson's History of Rasselas 35 „ 

Edited by Fred N. Scott, University of Michigan. 

Macaulafs Essays on Milton and Addison , 35 ^ 

Edited by James Chalmers, Professor of Literature. 

Carlyle*s Diamond Necklace 35 „ 

Edited by W. A. Mozier, High School, Ottawa, 111. 

yean of Arc, and other selections fr 0771 De Quincey . . . 35 ^ 
Edited by Henry H. Belfield, Chicago Manual Training School. 

Selections from Washington Irving 50 ^ 

Edited by Isaac Thomas, High School, New Haven, Conn. 

Goldsmith's Traveller and Deserted Village 25 ^ 

Edited by W. F. Gregory, High School, Hartford, Conn. 

Burke's Speech on Conciliation wiih A77ierica 35 »|, 

Edited by L. Dupont Syle. University of California. 



LITERATURE, 



Tennyson's Elaine 25 cents. 

Edited by Fannie More McCauley, Instructor, Winchester 
School, Baltimore. 

Macaulay^ s Life of Samuel Johnson 25 

Edited by Gamaliel Bradford, Jr., Instructor in English 
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Scotfs Lady of the Lake 35 

Edited by James Arthur Tufts, Phillips Exeter Academy. 

Milton's Paradise Lost, Books I and II 35 

Edited by Albert S. Cook, Yale University. 

Pope's Iliad, Books /, VI, XXII, XXIV 35 

Edited by Warwick J. Price, St. Paul's School, Concord, N.H. 

Longfellow's Evangeline 35 

Edited by Mary Harriott Norris, Professor, New York. 

Tennyson's The Princess 35 

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The Following Volumes are in Preparation : 

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GOLDSMITH'S VICAR OF WAKEFIELD. Edited by J. G. RiGGS, 
School Superintendent, Plattsburg, N.Y. 

DE QUINCEY'S THE FLIGHT OF A TARTAR TRIBE. Edited by 
Frank T. Baker, Teachers' College, New York City. 

CARLYLE'S ESSAY ON BURNS. Edited by William K. Wickes, 
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MACAULAY'S LAYS OF ANCIENT ROME. Edited by D. D. Pratt, 

High School, Portsmouth, Ohio. 

DRYDEN'S PALAMON AND ARCITE. Edited by W. F. Gregory, 
High School, Hartford, Ct. 

LOWELL'S VISION OF SIR LAUNFAL, and Other Poems. Edited 
by Mabel C. Willard, Instructor, New Haven, Ct. 

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